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Battling the virus
Mar. 14th, 2010 07:10 am...which is doing its bloody best to re-insinuate itself into my system. This time, though, I have the homeopathic wonderdrug Metavirulent, which I'd asked boss to bring back from Austria (when he returned from his China holiday), and it helps. Have to be extremely careful, though -- yesterday I felt a bit cold once, and the virus almost won. But I'm wildly determined not to let it come back, because once was really more than enough. (And how stupid is that, BTW? One is supposed to have antibodies so shortly after an infection!)
On Wednesday I went to buy a racket with Valentina. We found a super-light, semi-professional Babolat racket at the reasonable price of € 150, and I love it. It feels like a natural extension of my arm. The first lesson, eagerly awaited, took place on Friday. As the doctor had ordered, I played with wrist- and elbow support, and we did more backhand than forehand, AND THE PAIN DIDN'T COME BACK!!!!! I was so happy to be playing again, I felt like a puppy must be feeling when it plays in the snow for the first time. But I'll be playing just with Valentina for at least 2 weeks, as I really need to take things slowly and mustn't overexert the right arm.
Good intentions re. not spending money were severely compromised yesterday. Irene and I did our usual Satruday workout at the gym (spring is here, but it's still quite chilly, and there's still snow on the Vodno), and then went to have lunch at Gino's -- fantastic Italian restaurant, where a plate of the softest, tastiest calamari alla griglia costs all of € 9 o_O . And then we did a bit of shopping, and what can a girl do when she tries on a little black number that looks fabulous and fits like a glove? Plus, one has to consider the collateral bonuses of 1) the dress not being overly expensive and 2) the dress going to be copied by the tailor. So there.
We'd also discovered an amazing place selling fancy jewellery at prices so ridiculous that one just *has* to go there very often. Since I've rediscovered the joys of clothing, I've also rediscovered fancy jewellery. My bedroom is beginning to look like Aladdin's cave, goth version, because I love those black-silver-diamond thingies. Oh, and I also got the much-needed sunglasses. Decided to be good and not buy any sportswear, though, because I'll get that much cheaper at H&M in Vienna. I definitely need to buy some, because I'm losing my pants, which isn't very conducive to playing tennis -- one tends to focus all one's concentration on the slowly slipping pants and hence miss the balls.
Today will be a Major Sports Day: first running with Irene and Ursula, and then 1 hour of tennis. I'm curious to see how I'm going to hold up. Tennis outside, BTW, for the first time this year. YAYYY!
On Thursday, the whole gang went to a concert, and it was the first time I saw the concert hall. Like the whole of Skopje, it's not especially pretty, but somehow very endearing and likeable, and the acoustics are fantastic. I really missed Gabriele afterwards: all the others, except for Irene, who has a much finer ear than she gives herself credit for, were enthusiastic, and so I just kept my mouth shut and didn't say anything. The orchestra isn't very good, but neither are they abysmal, and if they had a good conductor, he might even be able to make something of them. But the conductor is really, really, bad -- just barely keeping it all together, so there's no room for extras like dynamics or any such fancy stuff ;-)) Anyway, it wasn't so bad that I don't want to go there again. Of course the programme wasn't exactly to my liking: I'm not generally a fan of French romanticism, and they performed a harp concerto by Henriette Renier, which is one of those pieces which might just as well not have been written without the world being any worse off. Still, an evening out with friends is always a good thing, and I'm willing to take a bit of French romanticism for that pleasure.
Not much progress has been made with Mr. H. On Tuesday, I was feeling very lousy indeed about the whole thing (sage advice: never, ever, fall asleep immediately after crying -- the amount of ice you need the next morning covers half the Antarctic). As always after a good cry-out, things have moved back into perspective, though. The fact that there hasn't been much progress yet doesn't mean that there won't be any in the future, and he's not the only man in Skopje. As my wonderful nephew Daniel (honestly, how many 24-y-o men would listen with true sympathy to the woes of their 45-y-o aunt and say things that make her feel better?) said to me on Friday, Look at it this way: you've been there for 8 months and have spotted two good-looking, intelligent men you're really interested in. Compared to the last years, that's not bad, is it? And there's a reasonable probability there'll be more.
So I'm feeling much better and more sanguine now. It was just the fact that I'd been, well not explicit but certainly showing my interest in a rather unequivocal manner, that made me feel so bad. Unsurprisingly, I think. Anyway, all's not lost yet, and who knows what's going to happen.
What I completely forgot to put on record: my aunt, i.e. my mother's sister, died 10 days ago. I'd liked her but never been very close to her, and so her death didn't cause any emotional upheaval. It was very bad for my mother and my brother, though. Still, they had the consolation that Aunt Hedi had the kind of death everybody wishes for: she had to go to hospital because of respiratory problems, got oxygen, felt much better, and they were already about to release her, when the doctor thought he'd keep her there for one or two more days, just to make sure everything was ok (she was 86). In the afternoon, she talked on the phone to my mother and brother, feeling very well and chipper, and an hour later she was dead. The nurse said she'd just left the room to fetch her some tea, and when she returned, my aunt had died.
She'd lived on her own, and quite independently, but she and my mum talked on the phone every day, and my brother and Daniel visited her at least twice a week. She'd had a few old friends left, and people in her building went to do her shopping and had chats with her. No loneliness, no suffering, no drawn-out illness. What a way to leave.
I felt a bit awkward about my complete lack of emotion, but being able to assist those who are mourning (if only from a distance, but that can't be helped) isn't a bad thing either. And I certainly felt a lot of empathy with my mother and brother, for whose loss I am really sorry.
On Wednesday I went to buy a racket with Valentina. We found a super-light, semi-professional Babolat racket at the reasonable price of € 150, and I love it. It feels like a natural extension of my arm. The first lesson, eagerly awaited, took place on Friday. As the doctor had ordered, I played with wrist- and elbow support, and we did more backhand than forehand, AND THE PAIN DIDN'T COME BACK!!!!! I was so happy to be playing again, I felt like a puppy must be feeling when it plays in the snow for the first time. But I'll be playing just with Valentina for at least 2 weeks, as I really need to take things slowly and mustn't overexert the right arm.
Good intentions re. not spending money were severely compromised yesterday. Irene and I did our usual Satruday workout at the gym (spring is here, but it's still quite chilly, and there's still snow on the Vodno), and then went to have lunch at Gino's -- fantastic Italian restaurant, where a plate of the softest, tastiest calamari alla griglia costs all of € 9 o_O . And then we did a bit of shopping, and what can a girl do when she tries on a little black number that looks fabulous and fits like a glove? Plus, one has to consider the collateral bonuses of 1) the dress not being overly expensive and 2) the dress going to be copied by the tailor. So there.
We'd also discovered an amazing place selling fancy jewellery at prices so ridiculous that one just *has* to go there very often. Since I've rediscovered the joys of clothing, I've also rediscovered fancy jewellery. My bedroom is beginning to look like Aladdin's cave, goth version, because I love those black-silver-diamond thingies. Oh, and I also got the much-needed sunglasses. Decided to be good and not buy any sportswear, though, because I'll get that much cheaper at H&M in Vienna. I definitely need to buy some, because I'm losing my pants, which isn't very conducive to playing tennis -- one tends to focus all one's concentration on the slowly slipping pants and hence miss the balls.
Today will be a Major Sports Day: first running with Irene and Ursula, and then 1 hour of tennis. I'm curious to see how I'm going to hold up. Tennis outside, BTW, for the first time this year. YAYYY!
On Thursday, the whole gang went to a concert, and it was the first time I saw the concert hall. Like the whole of Skopje, it's not especially pretty, but somehow very endearing and likeable, and the acoustics are fantastic. I really missed Gabriele afterwards: all the others, except for Irene, who has a much finer ear than she gives herself credit for, were enthusiastic, and so I just kept my mouth shut and didn't say anything. The orchestra isn't very good, but neither are they abysmal, and if they had a good conductor, he might even be able to make something of them. But the conductor is really, really, bad -- just barely keeping it all together, so there's no room for extras like dynamics or any such fancy stuff ;-)) Anyway, it wasn't so bad that I don't want to go there again. Of course the programme wasn't exactly to my liking: I'm not generally a fan of French romanticism, and they performed a harp concerto by Henriette Renier, which is one of those pieces which might just as well not have been written without the world being any worse off. Still, an evening out with friends is always a good thing, and I'm willing to take a bit of French romanticism for that pleasure.
Not much progress has been made with Mr. H. On Tuesday, I was feeling very lousy indeed about the whole thing (sage advice: never, ever, fall asleep immediately after crying -- the amount of ice you need the next morning covers half the Antarctic). As always after a good cry-out, things have moved back into perspective, though. The fact that there hasn't been much progress yet doesn't mean that there won't be any in the future, and he's not the only man in Skopje. As my wonderful nephew Daniel (honestly, how many 24-y-o men would listen with true sympathy to the woes of their 45-y-o aunt and say things that make her feel better?) said to me on Friday, Look at it this way: you've been there for 8 months and have spotted two good-looking, intelligent men you're really interested in. Compared to the last years, that's not bad, is it? And there's a reasonable probability there'll be more.
So I'm feeling much better and more sanguine now. It was just the fact that I'd been, well not explicit but certainly showing my interest in a rather unequivocal manner, that made me feel so bad. Unsurprisingly, I think. Anyway, all's not lost yet, and who knows what's going to happen.
What I completely forgot to put on record: my aunt, i.e. my mother's sister, died 10 days ago. I'd liked her but never been very close to her, and so her death didn't cause any emotional upheaval. It was very bad for my mother and my brother, though. Still, they had the consolation that Aunt Hedi had the kind of death everybody wishes for: she had to go to hospital because of respiratory problems, got oxygen, felt much better, and they were already about to release her, when the doctor thought he'd keep her there for one or two more days, just to make sure everything was ok (she was 86). In the afternoon, she talked on the phone to my mother and brother, feeling very well and chipper, and an hour later she was dead. The nurse said she'd just left the room to fetch her some tea, and when she returned, my aunt had died.
She'd lived on her own, and quite independently, but she and my mum talked on the phone every day, and my brother and Daniel visited her at least twice a week. She'd had a few old friends left, and people in her building went to do her shopping and had chats with her. No loneliness, no suffering, no drawn-out illness. What a way to leave.
I felt a bit awkward about my complete lack of emotion, but being able to assist those who are mourning (if only from a distance, but that can't be helped) isn't a bad thing either. And I certainly felt a lot of empathy with my mother and brother, for whose loss I am really sorry.
