Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Can it really have been four years already since the last Olympic games is the question I find myself asking frequently these days. You'll forgive me if I come over all nostalgic. I'm like a woman remembering the first flushes of being in love and watch the Athens 2004 Olympic ceremony as if it were my wedding video, with tears in my eyes, remembering how I felt at each moment. I begin to wonder, where will my life be by the time of the next Olympics if it's changed beyond recognition since the last one? Will I be an aunt? Will I be a mother? What will I look like? What will I be doing?
Life is all connected by a chain of events. My parents were both top athletes in their youth and used to take part regularly in athletic competitions. As a result of this, they worshipped the Olympics and watched it with great enthusiasm. Because of their ritual of watching the Olympics, all four of their highly unathletic, totally disinterested in sports offspring also marked the Olympics as landmark occasions. It was the only athletic event I watched with such dedication and the only one I ever wanted to go to.
Therefore, it follows that my parents are to blame for their own subsequent horror when I upped and left to live in Athens. If they had not been sporty, they would not have watched the Olympics and neither would their children. I would have not cultivated a lifelong desire to go to the Olympics and I would never have come to Athens.
The moral of the story is that if you want to keep your children close by, be a couch potato.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
I have nothing in particular to talk about today so this is going to be one of those 'filler' posts. On Saturday I went to the laiki and it really helped me to get over my week in London. It was like therapy for the soul, all those beautiful and fragrant fruits and vegetables and gleaming fish.
We got home and I said to Mr Zeus that we are millionaires. Look, here are all our jewels - fat plums, shiny nectarines, juicy red grapes, fragrant green peppers and sweet melons - and here is our gold and silver - two beautiful ears of sweet yellow corn and glimmering sardines fresh from the sea.
You know what I could never understand in the UK? Why do they shrink-wrap corn cobs? It already comes in the most perfectly designed, biodegradable packing of its own.
Last night we went to the marina to watch a bartending competition. I like watching that sort of thing, you know, where they throw the bottles around and do tricks. It really impresses me that people can be that good at doing something. I don't know who won, we didn't stay long enough.
Also yesterday afternoon with no mood to do anything I was sprawled on the sofa watching a food programme on Mexico. Oh God, it was like food pornography. All that chilli and fresh coriander. And then they talked about Mexico's famous mole sauce, a sauce made of a host of delicious spices, chocolate and chilli. Chocolate. And chilli. Two of my favourite flavours at once. If I ever get to eat real mole, I might very well die of sensory overload, or at least faint like that woman who wore vibrating underwear to the supermarket. Mole is traditionally only supposed to be prepared by women. But of course! Who would better understand the pleasure-pain balance of chocolate and chilli than a woman?Finally, I have bitten off more than I can chew and decided that instead of roaming around in the dark with my day job I should try to get a basic qualification that would help me understand the world of finance more. The home study kit arrived last week. I began unpacking and out came a calculator. Quelle horreur! Okay, it was pretty stupid of me to expect to get a financial qualification with no maths involved, but I am the worst person when it comes to numbers.
I dropped the box as if it were full of dead kittens. It's been sitting in a corner for a week and I know there's a time limit on this thing so I'll have to get started at some point.
If you're good at numbers, congratulations. We live in a world where intelligence and numeracy are very tightly linked. People will fawn over you if you can work out square roots without a calculator, but ain't no one going to be impressed if you can spell fancy words. Human calculator is a party trick. Human dictionary is not.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
If your wife's fat, oh fatty, oh fatty fatty fatty
Don't forget these days and nights
In the ceremony the bride and groom are kept in separate rooms and the theory is that this was to protect the bride. During the ceremony, each party is asked three times whether they accept the marriage or not. Maybe due to cultural reasons the bride might feel shy to say she accepts the marriage while her husband is there. Also, she may be being coerced into a marriage she doesn't want. By being out of sight of the groom, she might feel a little bolder to say no to the marriage, and in the true form of my religion, not the Al Qaeda form, a marriage is void if the bride or the groom is being forced into it.
Anyway, ceremony over we were reunited and got a little talk about how we must be kind to each other and take care of each other. I was reminded to take care of my spirituality because heaven is under the feet of a mother and one day I might be a mother.
We took a break and changed our clothes into something more relaxed, then we went out and had dinner. And that was that! I have my cousins as witnesses and a scrappy piece of paper with both our names and the amount of mahr on it as proof, and now I can say "I'm a married woman, you can't tell me what to do!" to my critics.
Image: My own
Tuesday, July 08, 2008