Cue “Twilight Zone” theme

A little more genealogical research led me to a really fucking weird coincidence…

The root of my grandparents’ last name, Rohatyn, is also the name of a city in Ukraine.

From Wikipedia: “However, the town crest has a horn of a deer which gives the first part of the Slavish name of Rohatyn or Rogatyn - “Rog” (“Horn”). The second part “Tyn” can be connected with a word which means “Stacket”. Together these two words give us “Horn Stacket”.

Also there is a legend connected with the image of the deer horn of the town crest. It is said that a wife of the Duke Jaroslav Osmomysl, being lost in a forest, met a deer. She survived by following the deer out of the forest. A fort was built with name “Rogach” (“Deer”) on the place where the duchess supposedly stepped out of the forest.”

My father worked for the Hartford Insurance Group. The logo of the Hartford is a stag.

My dad used to joke that he worked for the company with the Moose. This was a joke that would last my entire life, culminating in the engraving of a stag on the box his ashes are held in.

There’s no way in hell that either he, nor my mother, would have ever known about this coincidence.

But I do… and it makes me feel good.

Everything my father said about my mother (the woman he knew, not the one I knew) right before he died makes even more sense now.

Ribbit! Ribbit!

*sigh* all that work… headed to the frog pond

So… yeah.

My first socks done toe-up and TAAT are headed to the frog pond. Somewhere, somehow, I screwed up pretty badly and there’s laddering up the borders of the pattern. It looks terrible on the needles and even worse on the foot. I’m not sure if it was because I did them two-at-a-tme, I counted completely wrong, or if I managed to drop a stitch on both socks in the exact same spot. All of which are, sadly, very likely to occur and may have even happened simultaneously. That’s how bad they are.

I don’t want to frog them, but as I looked at how fucked up they were, I realised that - more importantly - I hated knitting that fucking pattern. I mean, REALLY hated it.

I love the way Hermione’s Everyday Socks are knitting up, even though I’ve just started a pair in that pattern. (Socks for a friend, unfortunately.) I think it will look equally awesome in that red. And HES isn’t nearly as boring to work on.

It’s really weird how that happens - both are four row repeats, both are relatively simple combinations of knits and purls - but one is infinitely more fun to knit than the other.

——

I ended up buying a new Forester last Friday and broke it in by heading to Woodstock for Black Mountain Symphony’s record release party. 492 miles from the Subaru dealership, to Seabrook Town Hall, to my house, to Woodstock and back to my house - I’m already at 1,000 miles.

Have I mentioned I’ve only had the damn thing a week?

It was a hard decision and one I didn’t make lightly, despite how it may seem.

My dream car - my BMW - doesn’t come in a stick until you get to the 335, and I need an X-Drive (all wheel drive). When I found one, the sticker on it was $51K. FIFTY ONE THOUSAND. FOR A CAR. I still can’t get past the fact that my very first house was only $32K and I still can’t justify buying a car that costs more than a house. (Even though my current house has an insurance replacement value of $289K, I can’t use that for comparison. I just can’t.)

I know, I know… and I did know it was going to be ugly. I could go down to a 320 / 328, but I don’t want an automatic that thinks it’s a stick. I refuse to drive anything but a stick.

So… my car had had these ongoing issues with the fuel line. It kept throwing up “Check Engine” errors and the dealership was kind of playing hit or miss with the repairs. The first time, it was $500 for a new gas cap and some kind of fuel container thingy. This last time, it was $300 for a stupid gasket. (There were some tests, but seriously? $300 for what ended up being a $6 part.)

When I got it back, the car stunk like gas, but I was told that it was natural and the smell would go away. I didn’t have anything to worry about unless the check engine light came back on.

I don’t know about you, but worrying if my fuel line was going to go while I’m on the backwoods of MA / NY isn’t my idea of a good time. Worrying about whether or not the car would spontaneously combust wasn’t particularly enjoyable, either.

Maybe those are stupid concerns… but the car was paid off. If it hadn’t been, I’d probably still be scared shitless to drive it, but sucking it up until I could afford to pay it off.

I got a brand new 2015 Forester - approximately the same exact car (minus the horizontal roof rack thingies), with technology befitting a car seven model years newer - for the same exact payment as my old car.

I suppose I could have done a lot worse.

I have mixed feelings about it, which sounds completely weird, right? I love it - I really do - but it’s just that I didn’t want a damn car payment.

*sigh*

——

I have mixed feelings about Black Mountain Symphony’s new album. It sounds ‘flat’. I thought it was my speakers in the new car because I hadn’t tweaked them, but my iMac, iPhone, and Jamie’s car confirmed that it just sounds flat and shitty. Maybe it’s because I’ve heard the songs live a bazillion times and that energy didn’t carry over? I don’t know, but the first album sounded so crisp and clear that the mix on this album is really disappointing.

My other complaint with this album - and it’s definitely petty - is that I wasn’t listed on the liner notes, but someone’s dog was. We all joke that I’m the #1 fan, the miles I’ve put on my car, the amount of money I’ve put in tip jars, the fact that I’ve let them stay in my house (not once, but twice)... all of those are testaments to my dedication to them. I know they sincerely appreciate me. I’ve NEVER doubted that. Not for a second.

But.

It would have been nice to get a public thank you… and there are quite a few others who are surprised that I was left off.

Especially in light of someone’s fucking DOG being thanked.

I’m not going to lie. It hurts.

I’ll get past it because it is so petty and minor in the grand scheme of things, but for now, I’m just going to let it bother me so I can get it out of my system.

——

I contacted another immigration law firm this morning. I laid out the reasons why I think I can claim citizenship and asked them simply if they thought I could and how much it would cost for that privilege.

I guess we’ll see…

 

Слава Україні! Героям слава!

sounds right to me

I had a blast at the Ukrainian Festival. Although I didn’t speak to anyone in anything other than English, by the end of the trip, I was confident enough in my accent to shout: “Героям слава!” every time someone said, “Слава Україні!”  (Call: Glory to Ukraine!  // Response: Glory to her heroes!) It’s kinda the Ukie equivalent of “USA! USA!”, if you need context.

The best vendor - and the only one I purchased anything from (!!!!) - was the Toronto Ukrainian Genealogical Group. They were so helpful when it came to giving me pointers on where to start looking for information on my grandparents. Granted, I know all I need to know to get their birth certificates and pursue Ukrainian citizenship, but now I’m curious about the rest of it. It doesn’t hurt, I guess, that I started to read Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin and realised that my grandparents’ families were saved because they lived on the Polish side of the border when the holodomor occurred. If they had lived in Soviet Ukraine, it might have been a different story. Then again, they got damn lucky they weren’t swept up in the insanity when Stalin decided he had to kill all the Poles…

It’s sobering to think of all the what-could-have-beens. It’s even more sobering to think that my grandparents lived through this part of history. (The key word there being LIVED.) That’s what got me curious about digging deeper and finding out more about my great grandparents in addition to anything more I can find about my grandparents.

I did learn something else. Something that I wasn’t expecting.

I’m not a Ukrainian (Roman) Catholic. I’m a Ukrainian (Greek) Catholic.

I always assumed that being a member of a Ukrainian Catholic church - and being sent to an American Catholic church for CCD - meant that I was a Roman Catholic. (At heart(?). I’m an agnostic in practice.) It turns out that the reason my American-flavoured religious education didn’t jive with the little bit of Ukrainian-flavoured religion I knew was because they weren’t the same thing. Fascinating.

Does it change the way I view organised religion? No. Does it make me want to go back to the church? No.

It’s just an interesting piece of trivia and something new to research.

So… I’ve managed to come back from Toronto with more questions than answers and yet another kick in the ass to work harder on my Ukrainian.

I was expecting one and not the other.

I’m not discouraged by either.

We are all different people, all through our lives.

my current desktop on the macbook

This is all the Pronunciation Platypus’s fault.

I stopped stalling and started researching what I needed to do regarding moving forward with the claim for Ukrainian citizenship.

Found a law firm with offices in both Moscow (yuk) and Ukraine that handles citizenship. After a few emails were exchanged, it was decided that for the low, low price of 18,000 euros, I could hire them to do the legal bullshit. Three to five months of paperwork wrangling, I get to keep my US Passport, and I get to pay in two easy instalments of 9,000 EUR.

With the exchange rate today, that’s $24K. I don’t have $24K.

I feel better about life in general after receiving this news, but a little discouraged by the price tag.

Oh well. There are other law firms. Right?

Getting my MBA will be equally expensive, but more rewarding… might be time to suck it up and go back to school.

——

I went to a book signing last Thursday - Benny Lewis was promoting his new book, “Fluent in Three Months” (named after his popular blog.)

There weren’t many of us there - maybe seven, tops - so it was more of a hang around and chat sort of thing. He’s an awesome guy. Really sweet and he does seem to genuinely care about our language learning journeys. He and I talked in-depth for a bit about the challenges of finding a good teacher, life on italki, and how much memrise fucking rocks.

His book came into my life at a good time and he really reignited my language learning spark… I’d been so down on myself about wasting my 30 hours and my never ending struggle with the vocabulary, that it was nice to stumble upon a book that gave me new ideas on how to get started. And, yes, I bought the actual book. Found it when I was looking for a new, updated, Ukrainian-English dictionary and a newer version of Colloquial Ukrainian. I could find both of those things on Amazon, but we were at Barnes and Noble because I was desperate to walk amongst the shelves. Every once in a while, I need a book. A real paperback book. I love my Kindle, but part of me will always be a little old-fashioned.

Since I read the book for the third time - I always find something new and inspiring - I started getting up early to do a few exercises and make breakfast. Eventually, I hope to add jogging or some sort of workout (WiiFit?), to my morning routine. Why I couldn’t do this with my wicked expensive tutor? I have no fucking idea. I’m doing it now though… and I suppose that’s what matters.

I spent hours yesterday combing through blogs Benny recommended in his weekly newsletter and I have more ideas on how to move forward.

I just hope I can get through a decent conversation by September…

Trying to breathe

dancers, suzy-q, 12.07.14

First, let’s get the unpleasant stuff out of the way…

I have been keeping an eye on what’s going on in Ukraine to the point where I know what’s going on over there better than I do what’s going on in my own country. (Selfishly, yes, because their joining the EU and introducing visa-free travel is important to me, assuming I can gain citizenship. Hey, at least I’m honest.)

I have to say, I’ve been blown away by Putin’s actions since February. He knew he was losing Ukraine to the West, so he wigged out and tried to distract them. Call it a simple view of a complex problem, OK? The fact that he went after an area that was where his naval base is located was pretty obvious, but didn’t seem as important as his insistence on protecting “ethnic Russians”. I’m sorry, but that’s like Ireland invading Boston to protect “ethnic Irish people”. From what I can tell, he was “leasing” the area the Russian Navy was using from the Ukrainians. If they joined the West, he might have lost that. The rest of it? Pure bullshit.

This thing with the Malaysian aeroplane being shot down? Until it is proven otherwise, I firmly believe that Russia was behind it. There’s too many coincidences, the main one being that there was a missile being fired at a plane in an area where several planes had already been attacked. Plus, it’s not like Putin hasn’t (allegedly) been behind the killing of innocent civilians to get what he wants. (“According to the theory, the bombings were a successful coup d’état organised by the FSB to bring future Russian president Vladimir Putin to power. Some of them described the bombings as typical “active measures” practised by the KGB in the past.”)

I need to stop now before I go on an incoherent rant. I can’t stand getting into political discussions because I become all passion and less fact (even if I know exactly what I’m talking about before I start.)

——

In other unpleasant news, our old man has been having problems breathing. It’s to the point where I’m cancelling plans just so I can have as much time with him as possible.

The problems are intermittent and it’s been very hard to find a pattern, but when they happen they’re fucking scary as fuck. Our vet has seen him three times, we did a trip to the Emergency Vet, and we’ve even brought him to a ‘specialist’. While they couldn’t agree on the best course of action, and were not quite sure what it was being caused by, we finally landed upon a diagnosis: laryngeal paralysis. Basically, his larynx isn’t working as well as it should be and it’s blocking his airway. Once it gets bad enough, our only option is surgery. Aussies live anywhere from 12 - 20 years depending on who you talk to, and Apache is 13. Arsey died a few days before she turned 13, so to say we’re worried is an understatement. I don’t want to subject him to surgery if we don’t have to, but I don’t want him to essentially suffocate, either.

It’s not been pleasant, to say the least.

We’ve started with little things: keeping the house cool so he doesn’t overheat and pant is the main one and seems to be working well, even though it’s 100 degrees outside and the humans are bundled up in blankets when we’re home. The other big thing we did was invest in the best vacuum we could find. I did a shit ton of research before we invested in a Dyson Animal. (We paid a metric fuck ton to get the version with all the extra attachments, too so we didn’t have any excuses not to dust.)  Arsey was allergic to pet dander (YES! She was basically allergic to herself.), so trying to keep the master bedroom spotless is a priority since that’s where a lot of the problems occur. The amount of dog dander in there is probably unhealthy… despite our best efforts, we have trouble keeping the room clean. Two dogs’ll do that to you.

To get back on topic:

After dropping $700+ on a vacuum - dude, my dad would keel over dead if he wasn’t already at the price - I was hoping it would live up to the hype. It sucked up like 10 canisters of fur and dust. Our 10+ year old Hoover used to get overheated, blocked, or otherwise useless after the first five minutes. I ran that damn thing for half an hour and the carpet probably has more shit in it, but I got grossed out. Seriously, the fur situation in the bedroom was so bad, the Wonder Hubby used to take the dog’s brush and literally brush the fur out of the carpet, just like it was the dogs’ undercoat.

We also bought a second fan for the bedroom. It seems that the combination of a VERY clean carpet, fresh sheets and the extra fan to move the air around worked well last night. He didn’t wake me up with his wheezing and the room smelled better than it had in a very long time. It wasn’t nearly as stuffy as it gets, either, so BONUS! All this to say, our life is about to become housecleaning hell, but it’s worth it. HE’S worth it.

Damn dogs and their short life expectancies.

——

In happier news, I took over 1,100 pictures at Ukie Fest last weekend.  I couldn’t get through them all, but I got a few great shots of the dancers. There was guy sitting in front of us who kept moving so I lost a bunch of shots because the camera would autofocus on him. I tried to focus the lens on one point and switch it to manual but it didn’t work well with the dancers.

I had what we jokingly called “Ukrainian-American Tourette Syndrome” - I kept yelling out the Ukrainian words that I knew. I struggled a lot and I didn’t find anyone to talk to. It was obvious we didn’t belong there - Suzy-Q is a resort and the same families have held court there for generations. I know that much from what I heard growing up… and I lost my rightful place when my mother stopped going. My proudest moment was when I bought a patch for my GORUCK Radio Ruck and the guy told me how much my purchase came to. I also said “дякую” about a thousand times. Good practice, if nothing else, for a word I struggle with. (I blame the fact that the ‘y’ is pronounced ‘oooo’ - it’s something I consistently stumble over, no matter how many fucking words it’s in.)

While I’m STILL not where I want to be with the language, I wasn’t nearly as miserable as I was in 2009. I’m making strides to regain what I lost, and I can’t be upset over that. I’m proud that I understood about half of what I heard, even if I struggle to say what’s on my mind.

——

There’s some stuff going on at work that I can’t talk about online, but it’s making me miserable, too.

I can’t escape the situation because of my position in the company, but I did discuss it with one of the people involved.

Will it change things?

I don’t know…

I going to stay with the company long enough to have them pay to get me out of the US, but once I start the Ukrainian citizenship ball rolling, I may lose that patience. That’s probably why I’m stalling on requesting the birth certificates…

Right now, I struggle to find my happy at work, and I don’t want to be unhappy there.

——

Life goes on - I’m working with Memrise, trying to stay active on italki, and failing miserably at both..

I’m writing my Drarry fan fic and while draft FIVE is still not behaving, I’m happier with this version of the characters. Are they still out of character? Yep. But they’re still close to my head canon, so I’m going with it.

Yesterday was both Benedict Cumberbatch and Jared Padalecki’s birthday. It sounds weird to say this, but both men changed my life in ways I could never have imagined. At the very least, meeting C & L at Supernatural’s BosCon got me hooked on tumblr and (re)introduced me to fan fic… which then - after travelling a very long and windy road - led to me become a ‘published’ author of Benedict Cumberbatch character focussed fiction.

It also led me to attempting GISHWHES twice. I’m forever changed by those experiences as well…

However, it’s heartwarming to be part of such wonderful fandoms. I know I’ve said this before: the SPN fandom may be as dysfunctional a family as they come, but I feel more at home with them as I had with my own family. And the Cumbercollective? Same thing. SuperLock forever, bitches!

OK… I need to stop stalling.

Off to spend time watching a bunch of language videos I bookmarked but haven’t set aside the time for. Seems like the best way to spend a Sunday…