Tuesday, December 27, 2011

"The good old Soviet times..."

When I was about 10, like any kid at that age I wanted my very own bike. I was tired of having to borrow one for just one ride around the block from neighbors. So at 5 feet tall, with my curls in tow, and big pleading eyes, I declared my demands to my parents.

But this was not just any kind of bike that I wanted, this was the supreme hot item of the then Soviet Union: the “Аист” (~Aist, translates to Stork (I have no idea how they came up with that name).

This is a famous brand manufacturing bikes since 1947. They seem to be popular even to this day. At the time, I and anyone my age who did not have one, almost salivated at the site of it as an odd kid with a blaze expression strolled passed on one.

So how does one go about getting something one wants in the Soviet Union?

Well one way was with the help of someone’s favor. Since my parents did not intend to pull any connections for such a child’s whim, I was left with waiting.

Waiting and calling the store. Every day. Waiting to see if they received any additional shipments because there was only one bike store in the entire city, and they were out. This went on for the whole summer. Can you imagine how long of a wait that is for a ten year old? A whole summer waiting for a bike?

Well, my patience ran out. Otherwise, my attention became focused on something else, and I stopped calling. I stopped waiting. Eventually I forgot about it. A little over a year after that, there was no Soviet Union. A year after that, my family moved to the United States.

Where am I going with this?

20 years later. Déjà vu. I have been patiently waiting for my birthday to get a gift card to get an iPhone 4s. While my demands may have grown more particular, as I would only want this phone and only in white, the process does not seem to have changed.

After spending some time at an ATT retail location, the outcome was this: I paid for and technically bought a black iPhone 4s, but I will be waiting for the white one to be received in stock at which point I will exchange the black one for the white one.

What does the ATT rep tell me when I call today to check status? “We don’ t have it in stock yet, call back tomorrow.” Waiting. Again. Having to call, every day. Again.

Communism, shmonunism.

That’s the moral of the story (with the added touch of the “Аист” and the “good old times” nostalgia.)

It looked something like this:

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Table for one, please.

I smiled across the table, even though there was no one there to see it. Do you really need to smile only for others? I think once in a while, you deserve to smile just for yourself. No, I had not gone crazy. I had, however, enjoyed minutes of solitude, as I was eating out all by myself for dinner this evening. And I loved every moment of it.

What is wrong with dining by yourself? Is it really such a taboo? I’ve come to realize that there are some things that I took for granted as a single person. Things I now miss. Sometimes. Going to the movies by myself is one of those things. Having dinner alone at a restaurant, is another. I’ve always felt empowered by these activities. Perhaps because I felt I was being different. I am one of those social butterflies and so finding a dinner date was never a problem. Once in a while, however, I just simply didn’t want one.

Now that I am far from single, there is even a higher feeling of empowerment. An enlightenment? A luxury, even. How often do you find yourself surrounded by no one particular? (The staff and other patrons of the restaurant do not count). I am surrounded by people, decisions, activities, to do lists, to accomplish lists, to follow up lists, to pay lists, all the time. Having that “me” time is simply priceless.

I still found myself asking (and I’m sure whoever is reading this does also): “Why would I go to dinner by myself if I have a perfectly good husband at home waiting for me?” Indeed, why would I? Because none of my friends picked up the phone when I called them? No, that’s not it. Simply. Why not?

I enjoy moments of solitude. Does that make me an insane person? I don’t think so. If anything I am probably at the height of saneness. I sometimes even wonder whether I would make for a good bald monk in a bright red robe. A realization of the fact that I just like to be by myself once in a while is a simple acceptance. I feel lighter thinking about it.

And for a moment I even felt like I needed to make a point out of checking my phone, or reading a book, or looking through my huge bag finding some odd thing or another. I needed something that would say that I’m busy, even if I’m by myself. But why? Why can’t I just get lost in my own thoughts? And so I did. Call it a free therapy session. Well I guess it wasn’t totally free since I still had to pay for the food, but you get the gist.

I even tried overhearing other people’s conversations. You know, something to do. It’s quite easy when you’re by yourself. Especially when you have a phone or kindle, or in my case a notepad that you make it look like you’re playing with as you’re waiting for the food to arrive. It just wasn’t very interesting. (At least those conversations at that time weren’t very interesting to me.)

My only challenge then was actually ordering food for one. It is truly a challenge because whenever I am out with people or another person, we always share. So how much food should I order just for my individual self? Inevitably, I ordered a little more than I could handle. You live and learn.

For those that are concerned that I left my husband at home hungry. No worries. I took food to go, just for him.