Your Roving Correspondent

Season's greetings! I've come through the holidays in one piece, although that's a completely premature announcement given that New Year's Eve still lies ahead. Nevertheless, I survived Christmas and since Christmas at my home was marked by the invention of a new shot, "The Cup of Sorrow," this was no small achievement. (I'd post the recipe, but I don't actually remember it, nor, since drinking what amounted to a bucket of sorrow, do I remember much of the period between June and September 2005, but hey, I have lots of other years I still do remember, so no worries.)

I'm blogging from the Globe. Pretentious? You bet your beret, but that's my New Year's resolution: become more pretentious! I think this resolution will be easier to keep than last year's -- "Become inscrutable." I discovered you cannot be truly inscrutable if you talk as much as I do.

If you want me, I'll be sitting in the corner, reading "The Idiot" in the original Russian and listening to acid jazz on a turntable I've brought with me expressly for this purpose.

Gone

I need a sign-off, like "Good night and good luck," or "I'm so glad we had this time together..." but then again, the blog is not ending, all that's ending is my days of writing the blog on The People's News Agency dime.

I leave behind me a row of empty bottles and a biryani-stained fork. Not a bad legacy for a little girl from Cape Breton Island.

Later...

Going...

It's not a real farewell when you know you'll be back next week to pick up your stuff. Not that I have much stuff. In fact, to make it really worth the trip I'm probably going to have to take some of Stepan's stuff.

Going...

The white wine is really nice, I almost wish I hadn't had to break the neck of the bottle to get it open.

Speaking of wine, our new boss is a failed wine merchant.

I just really wanted to say that.

Later...

I've agreed to celebrate my last day at work by going for drinks, but I'm questioning the wisdom of that, given that I've decided to spend my last day drinking.

(I opted for the chicken biryani after all. The Himalaya guy recommended a dry white Riesling or four fingers of Jack in a cup of Earl Grey tea. Funny, that.)

Which reminds me, the restaurant formerly known as Vas-y, Vas-y (then just Vas-y) has become a wine bar called Bokovka (i.e. the Czech title of the film "Sideways").

How many times will the phrase "I'm not drinking the fucking Merlot" be heard within those walls?

(Well, at least once, because I leaned in and yelled it on my way by.)

Lunch time

I accidentally broke the office phone trying to order lunch from Himalaya. What wine goes best with chicken biryani? Actually, that's kind of backwards, what I should really do is figure out what Indian dish goes best with some weird-ass Russian liqueur everyone's been afraid to touch for the last four years. Maybe I should ask the guy at Himalaya. He'd probably recommend some kind of traditional, non-alcoholic Tibetan shepherd's drink though, and that just won't cut it today.

Maybe I should just skip the food.

Live blogging...

Okay, so I had a little trouble getting the red wine open -- I couldn't access the cork screw because I'm not allowed in the communal kitchen since the WMD incident -- but I finally managed it, although I spilled a little, but the printer still seems to be working fine so what the hell, right? Happy holidays!

I'm still the only one here and I hope that changes soon because i HATE drinking alone, although I also hate sharing my alcohol. I hope Stepan brings his own hooch today. You can usually depend on him for that.

Kitty Corner

I was just on the Merriam-Webster site (looking up the correct spelling of "crapulous" for my departing message to our bosses) when I happened to notice the word of the day:

"Ailurophile" (\eye-LOOR-uh-fyle\)

It means, "cat fancier," and I think it means it in a clean way, although I'm not sure, and I figure the only way to find out is to start using it and see if anyone hits me.

Last daze

Remember several days ago when I reported that our bureau chief was "walking?" Well, I got that wrong. Maybe I'm not so good at this reporting stuff after all! (I was wrong about the weapons of mass destruction in the communal kitchen too. Turns out I do not know yellow cake when I see it.)

Rather than walking, the bureau chief has signed a new contract. Moreover, it's a contract giving the bureau chief far better terms than those granted to Stepan and me -- our contracts, I may have mentioned, came with matching leg irons. The bureau chief also gets a raise.

And what do I get? I get to finish off all the office liquor! (I decided this myself.) I'm going to start with the wine from last Christmas (a gift from the friendly staff in our serviced building), then move on to an unidentified Russian liqueur (a Christmas 2001 gift from our visiting Russian IT director), then, time permitting, I'll polish off the bottle of Czechvar somebody got at a press conference several years back.

I'm going to play a drinking game -- every time one of the Warsaw editors (who are all native English speakers, by the way) makes a spelling mistake, or a typing error, or a grammatical error, or uses three question marks where one would do, or writes in all caps, I'll take a drink.

This should have me sloshed in about 45 minutes.

Let the games begin!

From the 'How's that again?' Department

Correspondence from the Warsaw editing desk:

"Why wasn't this story forwarded to you yesterday not written up??

The editors"

Possible answers:

"Well, it wasn't because we weren't drunk." (with thanks to Tokyo Sexwale)

"It won't not happen not never again."

"Bite me."

Newsflash

"Czechs, Slovaks more afraid of bird flu than Hungarians -- poll" (CTK news agency)

I guess it makes sense, bird flu just kills you, it doesn't team up with Austria to run your country and stamp out your language.

Notes from the Moldy Knoll

"to go along with excon reality prague's real estate community is ready to be rocked by PIG realityfor prague invest group.

i wonder which company pulls in the rich, english-speaking real estate investors better, the pigs or the excons?

i'm thinking of starting my own agency, to be called fuckyoureality.

i don't think anyone will make any connection with the 'chance'
english meaning of my agency. it's an acronym, see?"

Duly Noted

I bought a notebook a couple of years ago intending to "write everything down," particularly, the witty things said by people around me. Mostly, of course, I forget it at home on my bureau. When I do take it out, the things I capture may not pass for wit, but they can be funny.

"Do you know what I did yesterday or whatever the last day was?"

"Hey! Our clock is exactly 12 hours off!"

"To get out of trouble, get into even bigger trouble."

"You can never be too drunk, too skinny, or too rich."

"The drunkest person wins."

"A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Douche."

The Beeb

Did anybody else cry when they heard the BBC Czech service (scheduled to be axed in March) had found an investor?

Not that I begrudge the reporters their jobs, just that I had been looking forward to the "all English all the time" format I figured would have to kick in once the Czech service ended.

I thought I'd be able to hear English news when I really want to listen to news -- at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Now I'm wondering if we'll lose the World Service altogether.

And everything had been shaping up so nicely -- they'd even canceled Westway.*

*Westway, for those who don't know it, was a soap opera set in a health clinic. It followed the trials and tribulations of patients and doctors alike and was about as entertaining as having a boil lanced.

Bettering Best

I've updated my original entry, but since this is my first official correction, I thought I'd best (no pun intended) be up front about it.

My British friend (who shall remain nameless, I'll say only that he's "too handsome" to post on this site) informs me that George Best actually dodged 27 people -- including a stripper -- to score the goal described earlier.

I stand corrected.

(Actually, if accuracy is to be the order of the day, I'm sitting corrected.)

Straight to Video

Today, we review the latest videos to surface on the Czech political scene:

VIDEO NUMBER ONE
This stars a former aide to Health Minister David Rath, Eva Klimovicova (I'm sorry, but that's going to have to be changed for marquis purposes), and representatives of the drug company Pfizer. Klimovicova offers to ensure Pfizer's drugs make the state's reimbursable list if Pfizer buys advertising in a journal she edits for the Czech Medical Chamber. Her contract says she gets to keep all the advertising revenues from the journal.

This one suffers because the whole "big pharm" theme has been treated recently -- with much better production values AND dead bodies -- in "The Constant Gardener."

There's no driving soundtrack, no love interest, no car chases. It's pure Dogme, and Dogme is so over.

VIDEO NUMBER TWO
This one has a colorful background story, because the video itself went missing. In June, when its three stars -- all members of a state privatization committee -- were first charged with seeking a CZK 50 mln bribe from Veolia Water, Veolia didn't have the video. In December, the charges were laid again when Veolia suddenly found it. I believe the film was not available earlier because it was showing at the Cannes Film Festival (hors de competition, of course). Now, it's resurfaced and it's riveting.

And now, a word from Camille Paglia

"I for one do not dance to dance music; disco for me is a lofty metaphysical mode that induces contemplation."

And now, another word from our Chief Editor

"Good have been smoother, but not so bad!"

Canadian Politics Explained (Part II)

Our eye in Ottawa checked in over the weekend with his take on the current Canadian political situation. We really appreciate his taking the time, knowing how stressed he must be these days over the threat to his beloved Blackberry. He says:

"The Liberals, led by the greatest leader in Christendom, have fucked up the party, the finances, and the Lord's Prayer and have embarked on a mission to fuck you up too.

Paul Martin's fluffer, Jack Layton [leader of the left-of-center New Democrats], has decided to go off on his own after his blackmail tactics failed. He is a sanctimonious little fruit. He is also convinced he is Chinese.

Stephen Harper [leader of the Conservatives], a tactician turned terrible politician, has allowed himself to believe he can win this thing despite the fact that he hates Canadians and they hate him. Weird eh?

I have to pause here and remind you of my theory that people with two first names are born to be evil. See above.

Gilles Duceppe [head of the separatist Bloc Quebecois] is an arsehole. He has announced that Quebec should have its own hockey team in the upcoming Olympics. Based on the Scotland and Wales model. He should check the record of Scotland and Wales.

The best thing that can happen is status quo as a result, and that way we can fire them all out."

And now, a word from our Chief Editor

PLEASE TELL THE FIRST PERSON IS THAT I NEED AN EMAIL THAT YOUR OFFICE IS OPEN FIRST THINGING IN THE MORNING. AND THE SAME FOR CLOSING. PLEASE TELL MARY.

Memories

I came in the front door of my apartment last night and tripped over a shoe -- one of 10 in my front hallway.

I suddenly flashed back to the front hallway of the house where I grew up. The shoe pile made it seem like the lobby of a particularly popular Japanese restaurant.

One night we had a visitor whose eyes popped slightly when she saw it. She asked my father how many children he had, to which he replied, "Four, but they each have three feet."

Is it any wonder I turned out the way I did?