Almost 8 Weeks

So this Sunday/Monday will make it 8 weeks that we’ve been in Ukraine. Holy Moses, it feels like forever and also it feels like in some ways it’s flown by. The countdown is now on to come home- court is next Weds 27th, Mena’s 4th birthday is Tues 26th. Oisin will be sticking with the original return date on his ticket, which will be home on Nov 1st. The plan is for me to have power of attorney for the last couple of weeks here to finish all the loose ends while he returns home on paternity leave, and then Mena & I will fly home on our own when everything is done.

This rural farmhousey-thing…. achh, I dunno that it’s working out so good. I hate to be a complainer, but I think by the time we leave, I am going to be well ready to be in my own house and in my own bed. Last night we moved into a room upstairs, because the lady said it was “super super!” rather than remain in the only room on the main floor that was huge. I have no idea why she thought upstairs was super- we’re right beside an older Italian couple and I don’t know who the hell is snoring in there, but they may as well been in bed with us for all the sleep we both got. We assumed it was the man, but who knows- the way that lady talks with such a deep gravelly voice, it could have been her for all we know. And the bed! I cracked one eye open this morning and said to Oisin that is was like sleeping in a shoebox lined with newspaper for a dead pet. Dudes, the charm is sooo beginning to wear thin. So here’s a little list of stuff I am sick off, and will not miss when we’re back in Canada:

1. I’m sick of what are essentially crepe paper birthday streamers made of newsprint masquerading as toilet paper. You think I’m being funny, but I’m telling you that’s exactly what the “economy” version of toilet paper is here. Exactly that wide, exactly that thin. Damn, I’ve seen better packing paper from Chinese factories when they send over samples of goods for review before export. A wet hand every time, folks.

2. No more toothpaste in “interesting” flavours like chamomile or chili pepper. I’ll stick with the Crest, pls thx.

3. No more tea in restaurants that tastes like it’s been stored in a mildewy basement for 10 years before it ends up in your cup. Hot basement juice, anyone?

4. No more weird stores where everything looks like a flea market/jumble sale. It’s sensory overload- when I look for something, I can’t focus on a bunch of random stuff all piled together on a table- it’s easier on the eyes and brain when like things are clumped together. Marketing 101! Put all the boots together. Put all the pillows together. Put all the geometry sets together. Don’t show me blenders and erasers and a calendar with kittens on it and eyeliners and hubcaps and mittens and sets of screwdrivers! Jesus, it’s like Canadian Tire was under a natural gas reserve and exploded as far as the eye can see! How do you know where to go to buy anything specific? And better yet, how on earth would you ever instruct a MAN to go to the store to get something? You’d say goodbye at 9am  and you’d be lucky if he returned 12 hours later! Wait a minute. Maybe this is the master plan to get all the husbands out of the collective hair. On second thought, they could be on to something, here…

5. No more sending blood in DRINKING THERMOSES on TRAINS in the lap of the CONDUCTOR for 14 HOURS like he’s driving with a SLURPEE between his legs after having to buy the glass vial and needle YOURSELF. That may just win the All-Time Weird Award. No, forget it. It DOES win the All-Time Weird Award. Period!

6. I will not miss the generic gamey beef & onion filling that shows up like a lingering pervert in a raincoat at virtually every meal somehow. Remember the Simpson’s episode where they show the octopus-like conveyer belts all coming out from a big single vat of bubbling crap in the basement under the food court to all the mall restaurants? Yes? Like that.

7. No more fucking Nescafe.

8. No more fucking Nescafe.

9. Did I mention no more fucking Nescafe?

10. Kopec and Grivna confusion. This is a good country for rappers who like to flash around piles of cash. You can literally sleep on a mattress completely stuffed with money, and if you exchanged it all, you’d probably come out with about $4.00. Canadians can no longer complain about having their pockets stuffed with change- come to Ukraine and start having to count out 1/80th of a penny for shits and giggles when you are at a shop! On the upside, we’ll have a lot more tokens the next time we decide to play poker!