Observers On Ice

So, without going into any detail about the nature of my work here, suffice to say that my technical title is "Observer," and we'll leave it at that.

Backtrack to a few weeks ago when, in preparation for my trip to the post-Soviet tundra, I did a little cold-weather shopping (hat, scarf, earmuffs, super-duper-warm gloves and a 600-fill down coat (the latter two as presents from Mom and Dad for an early Christmas), and a pair of wellies).  Naturally, I thought the wellies would be stylish and useful in navigating the snowy landscape -- form AND function?  How often does that happen?

You be the judge:

Unfortunately, I failed to account for several externalities: namely, temperatures well below freezing; and ice.

And yes, these are basically nothing but rubber -- no lining, no insulation, nothing.  Hey, nobody ever accused me of being smart.  (I would like to note that I am now DESPERATELY seeking a pair of Columbia "Snow Hotties," which have a heating element in them for the prevention of painfully frozen toes.  The only ones I can find online are size 8.5 and up; I wear a size 6, MAX 6.5 for boots.  Can anyone help??  PLEEEEASE?)

Anyway, taking off these boots today, I swore I literally heard -- but only barely felt -- the little toe of my right foot SNAP OFF.  Upon closer inspection, it is still happily attached, but I fully expected it to fall out of my sock a moment later.  And that was just the result of spending maybe, maybe 10 minutes outdoors.

Also, these boots lack something very specific, that could come in useful here: blades.

Not three days after our arrival in Luhansk (also often spelled Lugansk), it snowed.  The temperature rose just long enough for some of that light snow to melt, and then dipped back down below freezing, leaving behind a generous layer of ice.  On everything.  To include the flat, brick-paved (and I'm talkin' the smoothest bricks on earth) sidewalks.  So there I was... last Friday afternoon, having requested to be dropped off at the mall (I am supporting the local economy, and also I needed a shirt) and having sent the driver home, I wound up walking home, which I expected would be no big deal; it's a pretty straight shot back to the apartment.  Nevertheless, I managed to give those boots a workout.

Note to self: Nothing without blades will get you safely across ice.  And even then, you're probably screwed.

So, at about the half-way point between the mall and the house, I apparently subconsciously decided it was high time I whip out my auditioning routine for the Ukrainian Olympic Ice Dancing Team.

Sadly, despite my graceful yet challenging technical routine (9.9's all around, thankyouverymuch), which primarily involved the "Look, Ma!  No Hands!" maneuver of jutting my right foot in front of the rest of my body and altering my center of gravity in such a way that I plummeted to earth on my right hip (kinda like this but to my right and without the moral support of onlookers), I failed to make it past the qualifying round. (I did, however, unleash a supremely colorful selection of foul language in English... or is it French?... to the one guy who was close enough to help me up, but instead kept walking past.  I'm keeping up foreign relations, Goose-style.)

Bummer; I totally had my heart set on Vancouver.

I guess, since I am clearly past my prime for competition, this means I can turn pro now and tour with Smuckers.

That's what Brian Boitano'd do.

From Ukraine With Love

Well, heck, it sure has been a long time, hasn't it?  Where does the time go?

To briefly recap and to introduce my blog, I started a blog on another site several years ago, whilst traveling in Albania (a.k.a. "Sweet Home Albania") in 2005 for work (and continued through a job in Montenegro in 2006), primarily because it was getting expensive and time-consuming to explain to friends and family via email my day-to-day activities, and to assure certain concerned family members that I was JUST FINE, MOM, in internet cafes, again and again, several times a day. 

And, because I have a tendency to prefer shoes of the stiletto variety -- many of which I had brought with me to Albania, wherein I was stationed in a town not exactly known for its well-paved streets and sidewalks -- I named it Stilettos in Sand.  (And by the way, there's no more powerful-turned-deflating feeling than walking into a soiree (that's right, I said "soiree."  What.), strutting your stuff in the perfect dress and KILLER shoes, knowing you actually, TOTALLY managed to get yourself together for a change, and feeling completely confident, only to lose your stride and stumble as you step onto a sandy road or a gravelly garden and get taken down a few pegs.  Literally.  And, at just a hair over 5 feet tall, people not only notice you're shorter, but actually tend to think you have suddenly, completely without notice, physically left the room.)

Anyway, the blog.

Long since abandoned (and with nothing really interesting to write about), the blog kinda faded...
UNTIL...
I got offered this temporary gig in Ukraine.  And I told some people (courtesy of Facebook) that I was coming here.  And a lot (and I mean a LOT -- I was shocked!) of them asked, "Will there be another Stilettos in Sand blog?  Please?!" and actually said they wanted to read one, so....

without further ado (translation: "without more of my rambling nonsense," but actually, that's a huge lie)....

TA-DAAAAAAA!

Here's the new Stilettos in Sand blog, in all its wondrous splendor (or splendour, for my Brit-type friends).

Sarcasm?  Check.
Obsessive detail?  Check.
Observational humor?  Check.
Occasional self-absorption?  Check.  (It is, after all, a personal journal.... You want politics?  Read The Huffington Post.  Or, if you're craving a more serious approach to politics than Arianna, try The Onion.)
Parenthetical tangents?  Check (and check).
Run-On Sentences?  Check, but I really think that's not a fair assessment to make; after all, a sentence can have many parts that are inter-related enough to warrant inclusion together in one continuous thought (sans period), yet independent enough to require a modicum of punctuation like, say, my personal favorites, the semi-colon (;) and the ellipse (...)... but I digress....

So anyway, that's what this whole Stilettos in Sand thing is, for all you newbies.

And for my lovely, wonderful friends who actually think my writing is entertaining enough to read, THANK YOU (writing is my favorite thing to do -- especially when bored or sad -- and knowing someone actually cares enough to read it makes me all warm and fuzzy when I need it most!)!!!

Welcome back to the blog, everyone -- and welcome to Ukraine!! :)