Little Mother of Russia

I finally got through this book, all 359 pages of it. Towards the end, I thought I’d never finish. A hefty intellectual read, it was definitely worth it.

So much is known about Tsar Nicholas II, but not really about his parents. Tsar Alexander III tends to be overshadowed by his ill-fated son, and by the more illustrious ancestral leaders who preceded him. The story of Empress Marie Feodorovna of Russia is important, not only because we get insight into the relationship with her son and her daughter-in-law Alexandra, but because of her close proximity to the events in Russia for the over fifty years she lived there.

Marie Sophie Frederikke Dagmar was born a minor princess in Denmark to Prince Christian (later King Christian IX) and his wife Princess Louise. “Dagmar”, as she was known, and her five siblings experienced a blissful yet somewhat poor childhood at the Yellow Mansion in Copenhagen. A turn of events placed her father in direct line of succession to the Danish throne and the family’s circumstances changed overnight. Now, Christian and Louse’s three daughters were very marriageable for all of Europe. After Louise arranged her daughter Alexandra's betrothal to Prince Edward of Britain, she turned her attentions to acquiring another spectacular marriage for Dagmar.

The opportunity arrived in the form of Tsarevitch Nicholas of Russia, the first son of Alexander II. Although it was a political alliance, it was definitely a love match. Sadly, Nicholas died shortly before they were to marry, and his distraught brother Alexander (“Sasha”), now next in line for the throne, stepped in and proposed. A new husband, a new country, and because of her required conversion to Russian Orthodoxy, a new name: Marie Feodorovna. The marriage proved to be another love match, and the couple settled into an austere family life, producing five living children. Tsar Alexander III died in 1894 after only 13 years of rule. His son ascended the throne as Nicholas II.

While many contribute the downfall of the Russian Empire solely to the Tsar's weak leadership and Rasputin, there are many other reasons for its end. Fighting and one-upmanship within the Romanov family, a dominant bourgeois society, and each party’s ignorance to the needs of the peasant society, also helped to destroy the Imperial family. Dagmar was there to witness everything. As the walls closed in around Tsar Nicholas and his family; many politicians and other Romanov’s sought comfort and answers from the Dowager Empress.

One of the interesting parts of this book is Dagmar’s harrowing escape from Russia during the Revolution. It took the pleading of her family before she would board the HMS Marlborough (sent by her nephew King George V). It was only after helping other refuges that she would board the ship; escaping just in time. By the end of the Revolution, 17 members of the Romanov family were murdered by the Bolsheviks. Among them were Dagmar’s own sons Nicholas and Michael, and Nicholas’ wife and children.

Dagmar stayed with her sister Queen Alexandra in England until differences forced her to move to Denmark. Dagmar sought respite in Hvidore, the vacation home she co-purchased with her sister Alexandra. Known as “Kejserinde Dagmar” by the Danes, the problems of the Revolution dogged her until her death. She refused to acknowledge that her family had been murdered, and she faced additional heartaches due to lack of funds, the round of Anastasia claimants, and the continued fighting for power of succession among the surviving members of the Romanov’s.

1928 marked the end of the Dowager Empress’ difficult life. Father Koltcheff noted of her passing: “Our Little Mother’s, the Dowager Empress’ life is over. Russia’s many million children have become orphans”. Not able to return to Russia, she was buried in Roskilde Cathedral. In September 2006, Dagmar got her final wish, to be reburied in Russia next to her beloved husband.

In Russia today, there is a resurgence of interest in the Dowager Empress, with many publications being produced. The problem for many of us royal history buffs are that too few of these publications aren't produced in English. However, there are some stunning photo books about her where language need not be a factor in enjoying these tomes.

If you are interested in the Romanov’s, especially the royal socio-political environment surrounding the events of the Revolution; this is your book. If you could care less about Russia or the idea of monarchy, then give it a miss.

The Saga Continues

The water building strikes again.


More drama to come...

Healthy Arches

Leave it to McDonald's to happily comply to the chaos that is the new trans fat ban. I have to ask myself, how can both the corporation and the customer be such Stepford Wives? Doesn't one have to control the other in order to succeed? Instead you have both who are partners in this crime against humanity.

I don't know about you, but I'm so way over the healthy-iz-ation of junk food. I firmly believe that it only leads us to more unhealthy eating. Like it's going to somehow be "different" if the puffy cheese sticks that are loaded with unpronounceable ingredients are going to be healthier if it did not contain trans fats, or if it's now "low-sodium". Why not just practice portion control, basic exercise and get on with life?

There's nothing wrong with chowing down on food that's bad for you once in awhile, but do it in total moderation. Why is that so hard to learn these days? It's when we have the audacity to convince ourselves that "healthy" junk food is much better, that the four horsemen of the Apocalypse begin to ride across the horizon.

Guilty Pleasure # 48

http://www.travel-rants.com

Since I'm a wanna be world traveler, I've also fallen hard for travel sites.

This is one of the many I like. Haven't found any I love, love, love yet; but the internet (or "internets" as Dubya thinks) is a big place.

Long Island City Riff?

...or how I learned to lament quietly and stop complaining so damn loud.

Yesterday’s NY Post (Shut. Up. You so know you read the Post!), featured Long Island City, Queens prominently on the cover of its real estate supplement.

This neighborhood sits on the waterfront of Queens, next to Astoria and facing Manhattan. It spent much of its early history as a commercial and industrial area, using its proximity to the East River to ship in and out of the city. Lately, this nabe is becoming popular (read: acceptable to admit you live there) and the rents have begun to skyrocket as a result. While developers boast that it’s only "one stop from Manhattan on the 7 train", access into certain parts are actually a bit farther, making transportation somewhat of an issue.

A little over a year after moving to the city, an opportunity reared its head in the paper. In LIC, the Citylights apartment building was completed and units began selling in 1998. According to QueensWest, "The initial prices ranged from a very low $8,200 to the high end of $87,500. The average price of an apartment in Citylights was $35,259 or just $43.27 per square foot."

No. You didn't read that wrong. Stunning views of Manhattan were to be had for those outrageously low prices.

I coulda lived there...I coulda been a contender!

After looking this gift horse right in the mouth, I began to think my future was as sealed as Barbaro. Oh well. It wasn’t the first missed opportunity and it certainly won’t be the last. I did half-seriously look into the idea of purchasing one of these apartments, but several thoughts held me back from even going forward:

A. I was a newbie to the city and all by myself. Didn’t know many of the neigborhoods.

B. This was the era of touting almost any neighborhood in NYC as "up and coming" or the "new Manhattan". It was hard to predict how gentrified LIC would become. There are still some neighborhoods that have been “up and coming” for several years now, with nothing penetrating their orbit.

C. I didn’t know at the time that I would be in the city for so long. I wasn’t thinking long term.

D. At the time, I never really had a reason to set foot in another borough (okay, that was a selfish reason, but I’ve grown tremendously).

Over the years, I played out these factors in my head to assure myself that I didn’t really miss this gravy train. It didn’t get any easier. A short term job opportunity came my way and the offices were in, you guessed it -- Long Island City. From there I went on to college at LaGuardia, which was in -- Long Island City. I really got to know the place. It seemed for awhile that I couldn’t get away from my fateful decision.

Fast forward to yesterday’s article and a mention in Curbed. I learned that the maintenance alone on these apartments is $2600 a month and that was the reason for the rock-bottom prices back then - to throw the steep building mortgage back onto the buyers. After years of kicking myself, I learned yesterday that had I seriously considered buying a place in 1998, I would have been better off purchasing a higher priced apartment in Manhattan and paying a significantly lower amount of maintenance. This could be up to at least 60% tax deductible. Whew! That was an exhausting equation.

I’m a much happier person knowing that sometimes opportunities look good until you read the fine print. Who’s to say I would have liked living there anyway? How different would my life be today? I could have been a totally different person as a result of the move. That might be a good thing or a bad thing.

Sometimes, looking gift horses in mouths (where did that phrase come from anyway?) can be a beneficial thing.

Can I Have This Dance?

I just love this!!



Matt also keeps a blog about his adventures.

Now if I could only get a candy company to sponsor me...

This Old Tenement

Bob Vila would turn and run away screaming if he were to be given my apartment building as a remodeling project. Or "the water building" as I so lovingly call it. In all fairness, the building is old, but that's no excuse for the lack of upkeep by her past and present owners. I have wanted to live in a brownstone/tenement type building since I was a little girl. Blame it on Sesame Street. Unlike Sesame Street, I don't have a huge yellow bird living in my alley, I don't even have an alley. I do however have two sexually ambiguous men who are roommates living in my building, but their names aren't Bert and Ernie.

The water building produces tons of water throughout its infrastructure, hence the name I christened it. There always seems to be some leak somewhere, even in the weirdest places. Leaks abound here, and it's very annoying.

So, my turn came again. Being here nine years now, I've had plenty of turns to experience the Niagara Falls of my existence. The worst on record was a leak in my closet that got all over my stuff, rendering everything in there un-wearable. Other than that, it's been reduced to a few radiator leaks, which produced small floods. One of which surrounded a fully activate power strip. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

Today, I arrived home after a long day setting up our new office only to hear the familiar sounds of drip, drip, drip. Okay, I thought to myself, where is this baby coming from? There it was. Over the fridge and leaking like crazy. Dripping allover my fridge and the contents on top; soaking through a box of oatmeal and two boxes of pasta. Can ya tell I'm pressed for space?

The mark of doom-


The thing is, I have had so many problems with our new landlord that I will, somewhat out of spite, fully expect to be reimbursed for the oatmeal and two boxes of pasta. Call me cheap, but these people have screwed around with me for too long.

Someday, I'll tell the story of how I brought those mofos to housing court. But that's another day.

Euro-Itch

No, it's not something you catch that requires a visit to the free clinic.

"Euro-itch" is the term I coined for when I am seriously thinking about another trip abroad.

(sigh)

Right now, I'm on a Copenhagen kick. Who knows how much this feeling will deepen over time.

There are many pluses in taking a trip to Denmark. I read that from Copenhagen, you can take the Øresund Bridge into Malmo, Sweden. That would be a nice day trip. Another plus is that Iceland Air offers free stopovers in Iceland. I could do an overnight in Reykjavík.

Just think: Denmark, Sweden and Iceland. A Scandinavian trifecta of sorts.

I hate experiencing Euro-itch because I don't always have the funds to satisfy my cravings, though it's always nice to do the research on these countries. The main problem is that while I can get cheap airfare, all the other costs would be astronomical. Scandinavian countries are very expensive. I could do hostels, but I'm a bit burnt out from my stay in one in Amsterdam. That might be my only alternative though.

I am Most Like President...

Clinton!

You Are Most Like Bill Clinton

No doubt, your legacy may be a little seedier than you'd like. But even though you've done some questionable things, you're still loved by almost all.

What Modern US President Are You Most Like?

I'm not really surprised. Afterall, I voted for him. Twice. I practically broke down when it was time for him to leave office.

Leopold Tea Tube

I'm my own worst enemy. There, I said it. Of my many faults (and I have many), one of them is that I mull things over too much before I make a purchase. You could say this is a good trait. In a lot of ways it is. But it always seems to rear its ugly head at the most inopportune times. The usual outcome is that I go back and the item is gone, or I've waited too long and I'm out of time. Case in point: overseas on vacation. While shopping around Schiphol airport before my flight (that place is so huge, it’s practically a city in itself), I spotted this neat thingy by Leopold called a tea tube.

Not this Leopold -


This Leopold -


It looks and sounds like it'd be illegal in 23 states. You use the top part to scoop in some loose tea, then plunk the apparatus into hot water. “Great gadget” I thought, with serious considerations of buying it. However, inopportune-time-brain kicked in and I began to convince myself that I could easily find it in the US. Plus, there were free chocolate and cheese samples all over the store to further cloud my judgement. How could I resist free chocolate and cheese I ask you?! On the plane, I couldn’t get this gadget off my mind, which was the first indication that I should have bought it when I had the chance. So, when I returned home, I set out finding this little guy and hit every single brick wall I could possibly hit in locating it. Last week, I found it on Ebay from a UK seller. Yeah!!

So I have recieved it, tried it and loved it. And given my luck, I just know it's a matter of time before I see it in the stores here.

Guilty Pleasure # 43

Gallery of Regrettable Food.

My faves are the "Beef Mexicana", and who-only-knows what you call this.

I SO want to organise a potluck gathering where everyone is required to bring one of these gag inducing retro dishes.

"...Or help you at the automat"

One of my all time favorite film numbers, Marilyn Monroe’s “Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend", also makes reference to one of my quirky loves - automats. I don’t know what it is about them, but there’s something nostalgic about buying hot food through a coin-operated sliding partition. Almost the ultimate in self-service, other than going behind the counter and making the food yourself. Sadly, I never had the chance to actually eat an entire automat meal because in 1992, the last standing Horn & Hardarts closed down on 42nd St. I was a few years out of high school and not even thinking about coin operated meals. Sad.

I got to feel the nostalgia of automats allover again in Amsterdam last year, where they are called "automatieks" and are commonplace. The one we saw everywhere was a chain called FEBO. The only problem is that one of the items they served was frikandel, which contains horsemeat; a huge turnoff for me.

Imagine my surprise when an automat opened up on St Marks Place, diagonally across from my all time favorite egg cream joint - Gem Spa. I think I’m going to be buried with a Gem Spa egg cream, but that’s another post all together! Anyway, BAMN! as it’s known, is a concoction of neon and pink cuteness. They boast that they're open "25 hours", which works well for drunken nights out. The setup closely resembles its relative in The Netherlands more than its US ancestor. The selections are out and out fried fast food junk, but I just can’t get past the novelty.

Pumpkin Sage Cream Sauce

I love Spice Girl's blog. Not only did I find out about the Traveler's Lunchbox from there, but she also answered a few of my frantic blog questions ages ago when I couldn't be bothered to read the FAQs.

I had been eyeing the recipe she posted for pumpkin sage cream sauce for ages. I finally made it tonight with impressive results. I'm not that into eating pumpkin as a savory, but it worked wonderfully.

Jewels of the Tsars

I recieved my copy of Jewels of the Tsars, written by Prince Michael of Greece.

It's a colorful and breathtaking book that showcases the Romanov jewels from the reign of Catherine the Great to Nicholas II.

Interesting anecdote. After the 1917 Revolution, Trotsky had all jewels of historical value catalogued and documented; only to save them. "The Revolution had killed off the tsars, but it would not deny the existence of Russia's imperial past." Interesting indeed.

Because I have a subscription to European Royal History Journal, I was able to obtain an autographed copy. Imagine my surprise when I opened the book to see that not only was it autographed, but Prince Michael himself had inscribed my name!

"Ayyyy"

Even Arthur H. Fonzarelli would concur. I earned that grade.

The A that is.

Last semester, I took my first online course in nutrition (I needed a science course to go towards my degree), and it was no small feat. Very writing intensive, the professor's only criticism in her evaluation of me was that my online discussions were "inconsistent, marked by excellent, but infrequent contributions". Actually, it was kind of difficult to discuss the topics of the course with certain classmates, especially the ones who viewed the discussion board as a way to constantly criticize each other's remarks and observations.

Oh well, lesson learned for the future. Other than that, I was ace in all other facets of the course.

Imagine my happiness today when I got that A in the mail.

Guilty Pleasure # 38

"Perceptive woman: Anytime you overhear people, if you only hear a second of what they say, it's always completely stupid."

True Dat

Overheard in New York

If I Had The Dosh...

You'd be calling me "HRH Queen Gramercy" by now.

The "independent state" of Sealand, which is off the coast of England, is up for sale.

When I first saw the headline, an island the size of Gilligan's Island came to mind and I had visions of coconut drinks in bamboo cups. I figure the passports would be a nice shade of dark teal and the coins would profile only my good side. Also, I’d run the place like Stalin. Kidding! I kid with you all.

In reality, Sealand is kinda ugly. It’s all metallic and stuff.



Oh well. Delusions of grandeur aside, it was nice to ponder my new country while it lasted.

But, you can still call me "Your Royal Highness" and curtsy in my presence if you still wish to.

Guilty Pleasure #33

Although not a particularly attractive concept, airline food has earned its own web site. Don't ask me why I enjoy this site - I just do!

As a bonus, I found a pic of the delish cheese sandwich I fell in love with in both Switzerland and on a Swiss Air flight.

Grey Gardens…The Musical?

Jazz hands!

I love Grey Gardens. For those who don’t know, it’s a documentary film about the eccentric aunt and cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy; both named Edie Beale. A cult classic, it documents a brief time in their lives as they remain shut-ins at their run down Hampton estate.

It took me months to get this on loan from the library a few years ago, and it’s been a favorite ever since.

As interesting as it sounds, the idea of a musical about the documentary makes me wonder if it can follow through and earn some national acclaim that goes beyond the campiness.

What’s next? Picnic at Hanging Rock the Vegas dinner show?

http://greygardensthemusical.com/

Shelter Duty

Last night was the second time in almost ten years that I did shelter duty by myself. Usually, there are two volunteers on staff. I actually enjoyed it more alone. Less room for chaos, and I felt I had a better handle on what needed to be done; although it's hard to gauge on those two experiences alone. Not a bad night except for one guest who tossed and turned throughout the night. Of course, he happened to get the one bed that was covered in plastic, so it amplified a million times on the stage. Also, the bus arrived early and that always sucks.

A pleasant addition to shelter duty is that I get to walk home as the morning light comes up. It's a nice feeling. Lately, it's a drag walking down Lexington because in the past, walking home from shelter duty, the prostitutes were entertaining. These weren't your ordinary ho-bags, but something out of a bad 70's movie. Three girls: one black, two white, with a Huggy Bear type pimp - complete with a feather in his hat. One of the girls always wore a short white rabbit fur coat and there was no shortage of spandex between them.

It was so stereotypical it brought you to hysterics!

Congratgawelldone

My new catchphrase: "Congratgawelldone - ya wanka"

Too funny!

David Walliams - totally dishy!

Daily Candy Travel Commandments

I love Daily Candy and agree with almost all of their travel commandments (see here), but I would like to add another tip...

I don’t think it’s a crime to seek out and eat at McDonald’s in a foreign country. I don’t propose that one subsist entirely on fast food for your vacation, but if you are downright hungry and in a situation where either you don't know immediately where something is, or when the opportunity for grub will next come up, McDonald’s should work in a non-guilty pinch. I’ve been to McDonald’s in three countries: England, Switzerland and The Netherlands. None of these visits made me any less culturally sensitive. Besides, I actually liked some of the foods on the menus and became addicted to the After Eight McFlurrys on my last trip to London. Yummy!

Guilty Pleasure #28

isawyournanny - the ultimate in passive aggressive tattle tailing!

New Year’s Disillusions

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. However, lately, and with 9 days off spent outside of NYC, I started 2007 off with a lot of thinking about my future. Of all my feelings of late, I have to admit to myself that I’ve grown a bit of a longing inside of me to move back to New England, but leaving the city would be no small feat for me - not at all. After almost ten years here, I am the city and all its intricacies. I have an extensive network of friends and acquaintances here. Not to mention the day to day things that fit the jigsaw puzzle of my life. I jaywalk with the finesse of a cat. I found the best place to have an egg cream, and I know EXACTLY what an egg cream is (hint: it doesn’t involve eggs). I’ve watched Times Square turn from Peep World into Disney World, and have seen St. Marks Place lose its edge. I’ve been to every borough, and refuse to be one of those transplants who never leave the confines of Manhattan or the trendier parts of Brooklyn. I am the person I thought I’d be right now.

Spending New Year’s Eve with my cousins made me think afterwards how good it was to connect, and I had thoughts of making up for all the lost time. The access to my family would be easier and I wouldn't miss out on so much. I don’t have that being several hours away. Not that I'm banking on those feelings only. I have many ideas and perceptions that I couldn't predict if they would come to fruition. Maybe what works here might either be successful or go horribly wrong there. I would probably live a less noisy existence, though that's what brought me here in the first place!

I worry that if I ever do go back, will it look like I have my tail between my legs? I shouldn’t think that, but sometimes it’s hard not to. The silliest answer I give to all of my problems is that I figure if I had a million dollars that would be all I needed – really. A house for my parents, nothing fancy, and pay off my brother’s tuition. My sister, well there’s something I could do for her. I have much more if I do move back. New family members in my life and a more confident attitude have changed me.

Another thought lately is that I sometimes have the desire to be 24 again. The age I first moved here. Not to drink and be raucous, but to capture the things I missed in my early 20’s. I crave more time.

Maybe these thoughts are for all for naught and just the sentimental musings of a person whose been away for 9 days. Or, perhaps, a slow burning flame is starting in my belly. Could the one that burned inside to bring me here be the very one that will get me out?

So, I see 2007 as one big clean slate and I realize that there’s so much I have ahead of me. So much to think about.