Christmas in Moscow

Come and read about my first Christmas in Moscow over at my new blog!


http://insearchofarussianoligarch.blogspot.com/2012/01/christmas-in-moscow.html

In search of a Russian Oligarch.....?

I guess one of the advantages of not being married nor having had children is that rather selfishly I really only have myself to think about. My life decisions affect just little ole me which gives me the freedom to make radical changes. So 6 months ago I decided to change my life. I handed in my notice from my office job, gave up my apartment and moved back home and embarked on a quest to find out what it is I wanted to do for the rest of my years on this planet. When I announced this news to friends and family the consensus was that I was very brave but I didn't see it like that at all. There is nothing brave about gambling when you have nothing to lose. A little scared and anxious from time to time? Well yes as I spent many a sleepless night wondering what would become of me but stubbornly I kept a positive mind and believed all would turn out well in the end. I was in a position where I could pretty much go anywhere and do anything. I had no ties, very few financial commitments and some savings which bought me the most valuable of commodities.....time.

Ironically when you have numerous choices available to you, making a decision is nigh on impossible. The world is not only your oyster, it is a fairground of whirling merry go rounds and speedy rollercoasters. Knowing which ride to jump on and get the most enjoyment out of without too many stomach churning moments is akin to choosing lottery numbers that if you pick incorrectly you miss the jackpot!

For the first few months I concentrated on writing. Without the pressures of a stressful job to occupy the space in my head, my mind was free to wander and tap into an imagination that once unleashed threw out idea after idea to the point that I was writing three books at once! The writing continues today but I have sensibly chosen just one book to finish and to date I am a fifth of the way through. However, there is no guarantee that I will be published and as the months roll on and my savings dwindle I had to look for another fairground ride to jump on.

Some years ago I qualifed to teach English as a foriegn language but personal circumstances at the time prevented me from embarking on a teaching career.  The idea had crept into the back of my mind again about a year or so ago but I had ignored it's niggling presence, my own fears at the time refused it to be anything but a pipe dream. Now with the changes that I had made I decided to look in to this again. I tested the waters and volunteered to participate in two English Immersion Programmes in Spain and Poland. Whilst this was not strictly teaching in a classroom setting it did involve certain elements which required patience, understanding, quick thinking and enthusiasm. Most importantly it re-ignited my passion to teach.  I had hit the jackpot and spent the following weeks applying for numerous teaching jobs across the globe. My lack of experience went against me and I heard nothing from most of my applications. Thankfully after a few refusals and frustrating periods of radio silence my perserverance and positive thinking paid of.

On Sunday 18th December, 6 months after I quit my job and 10 years after I returned to the UK, I am boarding a plane to Moscow where I will work, teaching English to Russian folk before being shipped out to Siberia to continue to teach in a new school. The only Russian word I know is Vodka....but hey I always like making things difficult for myself and I'm sure it won't be long before I've learnt the words for "it's f***ing freezing here"!

I've always wanted to visit this once Imperial Land. It's unobtainable, out of reach existance gave it a mystical quality that has always fascinated me.  My life long ambition is to travel on the Trans-Siberian Express but I never in a million years thought I would work in the country responsible for its creation.

Where this fairground ride is taking me, I've no idea. How fast it will go and the thrills and spills it will bring along its way remain to be seen. One way to find out is to follow my new blog which will chart my life in Russia. I hope to bring to you a little piece of Russian culture, food, travel and people as you join me in my journey of discovery over at In search of a Russian Oligarch

The Modern Day Spinster will be taking a back seat for now and who knows should I find my Russian oligarch or even Russian prince (aim high) then our beloved Spinster can climb off her soap box and hide herself away. I want to thank all those who have taken the time to read my posts on here and especially those who took the time to leave encouraging positive comments. I hope to see you over at my new blog very soon.

Take Care

GEM

xx

"and they call it puppy lurve........."

Meet Charlie....

I'm having fun!

I love this little fella.  An adorable, cute, affectionate bundle of fun......everything a puppy should be. He's an 11 week old Working Spaniel and is the newly acquired addition to my sister and brother-in-laws home.  They both go out to work everyday while I stay at home and write which is pretty much impossible when this little guy needs constant supervision.  He's only been with us a week and whilst he's worked his way into our hearts big time, he's also worked his way into the kitchen cupboards, washing machine, plant beds and it won't be long before he attacks the fish pond!

We've made the house and garden as Charlie resistant as possible but he's getting more and more adventurous each passing day. This guy loves to chew and there's nothing he won't have a go at. Despite the plethitude of squeaky chewy toys that he's already accumulated, he'd rather get his puppy teeth into the cupboard corners, table and chair legs, radiotor valves, towels, garden wire and my feet (did I mention he's very brave too?!)

Mmmmm yum!

At the moment he is a machine.....a pee and poop machine that is.  Even though we 've taken every precaution to assist in his toilet training, if we don't get to him fast enough he's doesn't hang around crossing his legs and paws holding it in....no way! Fortunately the kitchen floor is tiled and cleaning up his mess isn't a drama but in the first few days it was happening so frequently that once I'd put the rubber gloves on I didn't bother taking them off, there really was no point.
A new kind of smell has impregnated the house and I don't mean the smell of dog. This boy can fart and not in relation to the size of his body. The pungent throat clogging stench can only be described as evil and lingers in the air long after it's expulsion. It's hard to believe it was brewed within the inner workings of a little ball of fluff and not the decaying bowels of a dinasour.

The quality of my days are measured by the quantity of indoor little "accidents". If there have been none or very few then I've had a good day and if there have been alot then I've had a shit day......quite literally! Our conversation on an evening is no longer filled with everyday issues such as work, tv, dinner and general news. Now we discuss in minute detail Charlie's pee and poop. how many, how long between each one, solid poop or soft poop, the size and shape of his poop, does it resemble a chocolate covered sausage or dispensed lump of Mr Whippy ice cream and how far up the stinkometer etc etc. The scary thing is that it seems perfectly normal to talk like this in our all consuming Charlie bubble while the outside world ceases to exist.

We haven't spent a night on the comfy sofa in front of the TV since Charlie arrived. No we'd rather sit huddled in the kitchen watching him sleep, watching him eat, watching him drink, watching him play, watching him chew, watching him poop!! Are we obsessed? Yes, I think so.

And why is it we talk to each other as if Charlie was their child? My sister has become "mummy" my brother-in-law is "daddy" and I'm his aunty. Our brains are being turned into mush. Lord knows what the neighbours would think if they were to overhear me in the garden encouraging my "nephew" to poop and pee on the lawn "pee pee Charlie, do a pee pee please for aunty". Repeating a phrase like this is what they advise in the training manual yet I can't help but feel that whoever wrote this did so while laughing manically "mwahahahahaha!"

In truth, when the toilet training goes wrong and he leaves us a "present" on the kitchen floor or a table leg succumbs to his mauling mouth it is oh so easily forgiven because  "butter wouldn't melt" is what springs to mind as his eager face peeps from behind the gate, wagging his tail in excitement as he sees us. A sudden unknown noise and he darts to "hide" behind our legs.  Should we be standing at the kitchen counter making a drink or preparing food he will squeeze inbetween and snuggle down on our feet. And when he's tired he wants nothing more but to be cuddled in our arms and nuzzle his tiny head into our necks as he softly slumbers.

Yep this little fellla has us wrapped around his little finger (or claw) and who can blame us?

My favourite toy!

Ahoy the good ship Talia...!

Earlier this year I had the good fortune to be invited to help crew a Catamaran for 10 days off the south coast of England. I had done some sailing in my years but these seafaring ventures were brief, few and far between. Clearly, however, I had involuntarily painted a different picture when in my alcohol induced state I discussed my love and experience of sailing with exaggerated aplomb through new forged friendships on a skiing holiday in Italy New Year 2011.

So when the invite landed in my inbox a few months later I gladly accepted with the hope that my 4 fellow crew mates were all "Old Salts" as it were and that a 5th member was more of an added bonus than a necessity. How wrong I was....!

Talia

On arrival I was informed that 1 male crew member had suddenly "abandoned ship" before even climbing on board due to unforseen cirumstances. This left a crew of 4 consisting of 1 male and 3 females. Our Captain (the only male) and Catamaran owner had thankfully 10 years sailing experience behind him. The other 2 crew members also had clocked up a fair few hours on the ocean waves. And so with my best barefoot forward I rose to the challange ahead and prepared myself to be "thrown in at the deep end" as it was quite literally "all hands on deck" for the next 10 days of our advenure at sea.

Harry's Rocks

Talia

 

Is age really just a number??

I have often been told that I look (and act) younger than I am. By rights I should look a very haggard 42 year old considering I have partied considerably hard since my teenage years but thanks to good family genes (and afew make-up tricks) I am still able to cling to the last vestiges of youth. And before time catches up with me and the copious amounts of alcohol, cigarettes and lack of sleep form deep etched lines and wrinkles in my face perhaps I should take advantage that my face still has some structure and is not yet a cloth sack. So next month I will turn 43 but have decided I will tell new acquaintances that I am 38, a full 5 years younger.


Why would I do this when I am actually not ashamed of my age? Well first of all to see if I could get away with it, I am taking a risk afterall. It would be such a knockback (and hilariously funny) if  I received shock responses and pitying looks that scream of "she must have had a hard paper round"!

In fact, I am curious to see if I would be treated any different as a woman in her late 30's than a spinster in her early 40's. They say that the forties are the new thirties so technically I wouldn't be lying. Would I attract the attention of younger people to me? Would it be more socially acceptable for me to hang out with people in their twenties? Does 38, never married and no children sound so much better and justifiable than 43, never married and no kids? Well it shouldn't but it does.

Age is used as a yardstick to measure how good you look, how much you have achieved and how healthy you are and what more you have left to offer the world.   No wonder so many people approach their 40th birthday with trepidation and a sense of "it's all downhill from here". Society dictates that you pretty much should have it all wrapped up by your forties. Education, travel, marriage and kids and that now "life begins" since the kids have flown the nest and  you can perhaps put yourself first for once. Take up hobbies or buy a holiday home and spend every weekend enjoying the freedom that "cutting the apron strings" brings. But what about those of us hurtling fast into our forties who got to first and second base but never quite obtained marriage and kids. Do we still go in search of that?  How are we depicted by society.....failures or life's Peter Pans?

Recently on a train I sat opposite two older ladies who had certainly been visited by the menopause and youth had long since waved "Sayonara". However, on striking up a conversation during the journey one of the ladies in particular was very entertaining, spirited and extremely funny. The twinkle in her eye outshone her weather worn wrinkled skin and grey hair. It was her spirit and character that captivated and attracted everyone around her. We all grow old but we don't have to be old. The quote below sums this up perfectly:

"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years.  We grow old by deserting our ideals.  Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul".  ~Samuel Ullman

It really is what's inside that makes us who we are and not the number of years we have been on this earth. Our bodies are merely a temporarily home for a spirit that never ages and time has no bearing. If tomorrow I was granted two wishes, one to be in my thirties again but with about as much personality as a dripping tap or be forty +, spirited, enjoying life, open minded with a wicked sense of humour then I know I would chose the latter. Like attracts like after all and I feel very lucky to have met those kind of people whether they were twenty,  forty or sixty, it is irrelavant.

When the iconic beauty Audrey Hepburn was asked to give her beauty tips below is what she replied. 

1. "For attractive lips speak words of kindness".
2. "For lovely eyes, seek the good in people".
3. "For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry".
4. "For beautifulr hair, let a child run his or hers through it at least once a day".
5. "For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone".
6. "People, even more than things, have to be restored, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone".
7. "Remember if you ever need a helping hand you'll find them at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others".
8. "The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides".
9. "The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode, but the true beauty of a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows".
10. "The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years."

Contrary to what some may think, Audrey Hepburn did not write this beautiful poem, Sam Levenson did. Levenson wrote "Time Tested Beauty Tips" for his grandchild, and it just so happened to be one of Audrey's favorite poems. She read it to her children on the very last Christmas Eve she spent with us here on Earth.

I could however ignore every word of wisdom and reason to justify aging indiscreetly by doing this one very clever trick. I could tell every one I'm actually older! I would be a fabulous 50 year old. People would ask themselves "what's her secret?", "what moisturiser does she use", "what is her exercise regime", "what is her diet?". And as the years progress I would continue to look much younger than my ficticious age without going under the knife .... I would only have to stay looking older than my chronological age....easy. I could, therefore age not only gracefully but calmly and peacefully which in itself would take years off me, a win win solution don't you think?

Summer Lovin'..............

Can you believe it .....summertime is whizzing by and almost over. In a little over 2 weeks the schools will start a new term, the evenings will grow darker and advertisements for Christmas will fill our TVs. Depressing I know. But as we look back and reflect on another typical wet and windy British summer I wonder how many returned from sunny, hot, far flung places, were hit by "Summer Lovin'"?

Hot temparatures, half naked bodies, cocktails and dancing ...... the perfect recipe to spark a holiday romance and bring "Sandy" to her "Danny".  The stresses and strains of everyday life are left far behind as we become chilled out, easy going, bronzed "happy" people. The sexiness of the Mediterranean to the exoticness of the Caribbean seduces, tantilises and makes "falling in love" fast and easy...all part of the holiday package.
 
But do they last? Is a holiday romance the start of something special or just fun in the sun?

All the ingredients  pretty much disappear as soon as the airplane hits the tarmac back at home. Sun replaces rain and days melting in to one are now structured and dominated by office hours.  What are the chances you live near to each other? Despite Facebook, Skype etc when everyday life gets in the way how long can you be bothered to make those long distant phone calls or even visit each other trying to rekindle the "connection" made under a burning sun?  Will you still lust after each other when the sun kissed half naked bodies turn a whiter shade of pale after being covered up against the cooler temperatures? How long before the novelty wears off?

You on holiday is unlikely to be 100% the same person you are at home. The fun loving carefree person on the beach maybe more stressed, hurried and serious in the cold light of day.  I mean that's why we go on holiday isn't...to relax? So it's pretty much expected that you will meet other relaxed people.

Some years back I had a holiday romance.  It lasted 9 months after we got back and during that time we even went back on holiday to where we first met. However, like any relationship when the first flush of romance wears off it depends whether there is enough leftover to work hard enough at keeping it going.

Generally speaking though the chances that you will be walking down the aisle with your holiday romance is pretty slim. It's called a holiday romance for a reason because really that's precisely what it is.

beauty and the mass media beast!

Looking back at my dating experiences I realise that the majority of men with whom I've gone out with, dated or had a relationship with, have been younger than me. I'm not talking about the Demi Moore - Ashton Kutcher 15 year age gap however but enough of a difference to put my self-consciousness on high alert. Facial lines appear more pronounced despite the plethora of anti aging creams in the bathroom cabinet and the once every 2 monthly visit to the hair salon increases to 4-6 weekly, should he,God forbid, find a stray grey hair or two.

The pressure to stay looking young is evident in all that we read in magazines and watch in movies or on TV however it is fiercly highlighted when dating a younger man. Referring back to Demi More and Ashton Kutcher's 15 year age gap, it is rumoured that she has spent £250k since 2007 on plastic surgery, liposuction and even knee surgery. If an A list Hollywood star, as naturally beautiful and talented as Demi Moore, feels the pressure to stay young looking for her toy boy husband, then what hope is there for the rest of us? Does Michael Douglas feel under pressure to embark on a quest for eternal youth in order to stop his stunning wife Catherine Zeta Jones runnning for the (Hollywood) hills? Apparantley so. It's been reported that he has undergone a face and brow lift. But even Catherine Zeta Jones herself has had help from the surgeon's knife in maintaining her beauty.

So is the pressure to literally peel back the years from having a younger spouse? or really from being in the fickle scrutinising eye of the mass media?

"Cougars" are the vastly growing number of savvy ladies on the hunt for younger men. This woman has the self confidence to command awestruck respect from her younger prey that she can manipulate him to go along with whatever she says. Enough life experiences have taught her what matters and what doesn't and she has faced her insecurities and fears. She is not going to bother her latest squeeze with feminine frivalities that often turn men off, ie: "Does my bum look big in this?". She knows what she looks good in and what to avoid. Probably most importantly for her less experienced partner, is that she can teach him a thing or two between the sheets...with the light on and not worrying about showing her stretch marks or cellulite I might add! She's there for a good time for as long as it lasts. No strings, no long term commitment. This seems to be a happy middle ground in recapturing your lost youth yet not worrying whether he sticks around or not.  No wonder "Mrs Robinson" is still such an iconic role model for these temptress ladies.

As a society though are we still made to feel a little uncomfortable at the thought of an older woman dating a much younger man?  Were eyebrows raised when Michael Douglas married Catherine Zeta Jones, 25 years his junior?Rod Stewert married Penny Lancaster with also a 25 year age gap? Not really. Some thought it may not last, the younger spouses wanting to stay up late and party perhaps. But these men bring alot to the table. Not just wealth but experience, maturity and most importanly less likely to stray. Turn the tables, however and we are not so readily able to accept such an age gap between an older woman and younger man.


But why? Because we have been brain washed by the mass media that beauty and youth are the only attributes that serve a woman. We have been led to believe that men are influenced first and foremost by physical beauty and not inner beauty. And yes even in the 21st century. Lets be honest ageism is very much alive and kicking down the self esteem of women and men eveywhere. You would be a liar and a fool to deny it. The proof? Just look in the magazines and shops. Anti wrinkle this and anti age that. The companies that make such products would not survive if we were not slaves to the beauty industry. Ladies, we are the ones who buy into this misconception that we are only as good as the moisturiser we use. And whilst I wholeheartedly subscribe to taking care of oneself both in health and appearance, I do not want to waste my life worrying whether I look 10 years younger than I really am.

Can you imagine a world where make up, hair dye, plastic surgery, botox, anti wrinkle creams  and designer clothers did not exist? In that world we would have to look for something else to act as our self worth. How about intelligence, sense of humour, kindness, patience and a positive outlook. Guess what? I already have these attributes and so do most  men and women out there. It's just a shame that they are not the primary focus in the mass media, the most powerful influence in our lives.