tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33343582012-05-06T13:29:44.446+01:00An American housewife's adventures in Central EuropeThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-12779930235121925042007-12-22T19:25:00.000Z2007-12-22T19:26:39.756Z

Ah, Gentle Reader. You have come to here to follow my adventures in Slovakia. But I've moved to Moscow! If you're game, follow the Moscow link and see what I'm up to now.

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-5776585391205411242007-11-29T09:03:00.000Z2008-01-25T14:37:23.640Z

In Which I Try to Remember How Much Fun I HadNothing witty today. Nothing cynical. Nothing even very interesting. I am a firm believer that bad experiences make the best blog entries. And what follows was not bad at all, other than the Sugar-Free Red Bull I drank in order to help me stay awake. Nasty stuff.Saturday night was the Bal des Fous: what started as a French party and sort of got out of

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-26772456598051070752007-10-19T19:48:00.000+01:002007-10-19T20:24:07.361+01:00

In Which We Consider the Moon Over Parma (Ohio)It's weird the things one fixates on when living abroad. The Spouse and I often recall a holiday (October 10 or Double Ten Day) in Taiwan where we watched a Tina Turner concert on television and wept because we were so homesick.Yeah, it was dumb, but at the time, we were simply overwhelmed by wanting to be in the middle of our own culture. At least

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-88371111849045786912007-10-10T14:48:00.000+01:002007-10-10T16:07:56.161+01:00

In Which I Determine It’s Time to Blow This Pop StandOkay, so first I must confess that it seems we are, indeed, moving to Moscow, but don’t ask me anything more about it yet because that is truly all I know. Could be in a few weeks or it could be end of June. But I will keep you posted.So in the spirit of purging and streamlining, I attacked a set of dresser drawers on Monday. It was long

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-662355311923383022007-10-08T10:17:00.000+01:002007-10-08T17:49:47.380+01:00

In Which I Take a Break from Talking About SexI know you are disappointed, but this past week was just rather normal. I've had a cold for about a week now, but Thursday I went swimming anyhow. I have no idea how far. My friend counted her laps, and said she did 64. She was really moving, so my guess is maybe I did 40. It took 40 minutes anyhow.That was a feather in my cap, but what I am really

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-39366286341589790872007-10-04T19:43:00.000+01:002007-10-04T20:14:51.695+01:00

The Gauntlet Has Been Thrown DownOh, the Internet is a mighty small place, my friends. Do they honestly think I will never see this? In fairness, I see the majority of the posters coming to my defense. And, in truth, any publicity is good publicity, right?But brace yourselves for the truth, Faithful Readers: I know who you are AND when you read my blog . . . heh heh. No. Really. I do. I have a

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-19199022791706781882007-10-03T20:45:00.000+01:002007-10-03T20:58:49.774+01:00

Mystery SolvedA Vigilant Friend forwarded me this local solution to the digestive issues I suffered after the Goose Gorging:It is nice to have a cup of cold drink after a meal. However, the cold water will solidify the oily stuff that you have just consumed. It will slow down the digestion. Once this "sludge" reacts with the acid, it will break down and be absorbed by the intestine faster than

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-28768769259654475512007-09-30T20:40:00.000+01:002007-10-01T07:51:43.096+01:00

Binge, PurgeNeither is recommended, although I did have a good time doing both this weekend.The binging began Friday night with a goose fest at the Zlatá Hus, or Golden Goose restaurant in a village just outside Bratislava (http://www.zlatahus.sk/ for fotky or photos). This was my dining club’s annual event, and the third time I’ve been to this place.I don’t generally have much of an emotional

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-37911977473372077492007-09-20T10:45:00.000+01:002007-11-30T14:26:29.006Z

BUBLIFUK!No, Gentle Reader, this is not a product one purchases from the back of a men’s magazine. It is something I found in the SCHOOL SUPPLIES aisle of the grocery store. The word impressed me so much that I actually wrote it down on the little notepad I’ve started carrying for just such an occasion. I also wrote the price, 18 crowns, which is not quite a dollar. And I think I shall try

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-32287821389546452282007-07-12T00:58:00.000+01:002007-07-12T01:09:28.697+01:00

In Which We Go to a SpaI’m looking for interesting ways to fill the days for the children and my summer single-parent lifestyle. Friend of a Friend works at a spa on the Hungarian border (http://www.wellnesspatince.sk/).Last Friday, before Skittles decided to introduce her temple to a table corner in McDonald’s, I saw, in the mall, large banners advertising her employer. So I booked us.Zuzka said

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-32246464098416885212007-06-25T19:14:00.000+01:002007-06-25T19:44:32.353+01:00

In Which I Cause an International IncidentI wouldn't call me a patriotic person. I cringe during the Independence Day celebrations when I'm forced to listen to that awful Lee Greenwood song. But, I do have moments of national pride from time to time, most often when listening to classic rock tunes . . . although the Brits hold their own in that department, too. I justify that by telling myself

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-59427105269209136592007-06-24T15:23:00.000+01:002007-06-24T15:35:06.623+01:00

Coming Soon: The Bratislava Slut StrutNow is as good a time as any to mention the Bratislava Slut Strut tentatively scheduled for the last half of August.Let me explain. I have this wonderful and outrageous American friend. She's one of the few Americans here I really like (many I tolerate, most I have no patience for). She has been my Diet and Fitness Muse: she lost a lot of weight a few years

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-82252067748635224792007-06-22T17:38:00.000+01:002007-06-24T15:38:01.252+01:00

Friday Update: This and ThatGirded my loins, as it were, and took Baboo back to the hospital for her "control" this morning as ordered. Walked into the waiting area for the People's Surgical Consulting Office and EVERY brown pleather seat was filled with sad kids with broken arms and their resigned parents. This was at 7:55 a.m.Turned around and walked two doors down the hall to the Private

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-51849809355949432872007-06-19T17:21:00.000+01:002007-06-19T20:08:24.854+01:00

Bad Luck Comes in Threes?Sheesh. When will it end, the constant ferrying of family to medical facilities around Central Europe?First it was The Spouse’s Unfortunate Bottom, which, while not completely finished, seems to have turned the corner, as it were. His last visit to the jolly Greek doctor in Hainburg was Saturday.Yesterday, Monday, I notice a missed call from a woman who is identified in

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-39730422361824042612007-06-13T18:07:00.001+01:002009-09-04T08:35:03.465+01:00

In Which I Go Temporarily InsaneI’m not sure if this is appropriate blog material, so please give me some feedback. At the time, it seemed hysterical and just full of endless discussion topics. You be the judge.Where to begin? I suppose a discussion of midlife crises is in order first. I have a friend from college who I have recently rediscovered via email. He asked me, “So, what did you do for

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-29251061524725891452007-06-08T09:47:00.000+01:002007-06-08T13:26:39.500+01:00

In Which I Volunteer at SchoolI did double volunteer duty at the French school Wednesday and, I tell you Midge, I am fried. First, I had Piscine (swimming pool duty). They ask pairs of mothers to come along and help, and my partner for this was a very nice woman who speaks English better than I do.Thankfully, we weren't required to get in the water, but just kept an eye on the kids from the side

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-20958361606245358002007-06-05T16:27:00.000+01:002007-06-05T16:34:45.641+01:00

HIS Medical ProblemsThe poor long-suffering Spouse. In a continuation of the My Medical Problems theme, we have often discussed how nothing that happens to him is ever in what I might call a “public” part of his body: not the elbow, nor the big toe, nor the earlobe. It’s always something that involves removing undergarments and revealing intimate body parts.Such was the case again on Sunday,

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-10475938200041786372007-05-30T17:28:00.000+01:002007-05-30T18:05:02.938+01:00

My Medical ProblemsA million years ago, before we even met, The Spouse managed a Wendy’s. He comes from an entire dynasty of Wendy’s managers. In order to relieve the boredom of the job, he invented games he could play while doing his various tasks.His most successful was Dining Room. He observed that there are no more than four basic topics of conversation in any restaurant. While cleaning the

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-77754996973770018702007-05-20T08:49:00.000+01:002007-06-16T14:08:38.932+01:00

In Which I Can’t Stop LaughingThat which every parent fears most happened to us today. We got walked in on.I know, I know. Lock the bedroom door, I hear you say. But our bedroom door slides. It can’t be locked. We have always had a If the Door Is Closed Please Knock Policy, but we usually reminded everyone about said policy and the need for a serious problem (i.e. blood) as we started their DVD

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-85280107824995371032007-05-16T12:13:00.000+01:002007-06-22T16:42:38.910+01:00

In Which I Am VexedOh, the evils of alcohol. It all comes down to that, in some sort of perverse karmic justice, I am sure. I was snarky about the passing of Rev. Falwell, and, lo! What befell me.Last night was an Italian wine tasting. It was a very nice affair at my friends’ restaurant. It was nice because we tasted four whites and five reds from Sicily and Sardina, presented by a young, but

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-91710779054616152552007-05-08T13:57:00.000+01:002007-06-16T14:15:29.254+01:00

United Nations Weekend: Spanish/Austrian/British/French/English?We had an international weekend starting with Spanish Dinner on Friday night. As always, we were in a noisy restaurant, which made it very difficult for me to hear Spanish Husband who is a bit of a quiet talker anyhow. Once when I said, "Huh?" he said "I thought we were speaking Spanish tonight." We WERE speaking Spanish when we

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-26486537598702172052007-05-02T18:48:00.000+01:002007-05-03T07:40:22.853+01:00

I DON’T DO GROUPSThe school holidays are over: life is back to normal. Today, while driving back from dropping everyone off at school and office, I was looking at the reflection of my headlights in the back end of the car in front of me. They seemed . . . dim.Shit. I could stop at the car dealer and mime how my lights appear to be kaput and for a few dollars the kind fellows in the Service Center

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-6749126602132734222007-04-30T09:08:00.000+01:002007-04-30T10:01:53.414+01:00

I WANT TO RIDE MY BICYCLE, I WANT TO RIDE MY BIKE . . .So I may have mentioned that I bought myself a bike a few weeks ago. The Spouse is a pretty avid cyclist, and often goes for rides of around three hours and as much as 75 km. He’s got the shorts and the cool shirts and looks at home on the bike paths. A few years ago I rented a bike locally, and we did a round trip ride of about 70 km which

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1174315540673237672007-03-19T15:34:00.000Z2007-03-19T17:13:04.533Z

WHAT IF THEY GAVE A REUNION AND NOBODY CAME?Well, if the reunion is in Madrid, you can still have a great time anyhow.The Spouse and I did just that this weekend. We went to Madrid, ostensibly because there was going to be a casual gathering of the Spaniards and Anglos who participated in the English immersion program I went to in November. I didn’t expect people to return from the four corners

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1169138009364987762007-01-18T16:27:00.000Z2007-01-18T16:33:29.373Z

THOSE DARN KIDSThe girls were talking about penises this morning. Baboo wondered if she could grow one. The Spouse said, "Go ahead." Skittles thought the better way was to "buy a fake one and show it to all your friends." That's my girl!***After school the topic switched to breasts. They had one of the Spouse's Russian magazines. This one is particularly crass, with political scandals and

The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1