| (no subject) |
[Jul. 15th, 2004|03:59 pm] |
Again from "national Geographic". This time, I'm not arguing with them, just admiring creative genius, pure and simple, of a California winery:
Itak, vstupleniye: "Under European Union rules, the only wines that can bear the name Chablis are those bottled in the French region of that name, the only cheese sold as pecorino Toscano has to be made in Tuscany, and, if a new global proposal is accepted, Oscar Mayer will have to find a new way to spell bologna."
And now the punch line:
"And Calfornia's Quady winery has shown that all the good names aren't aken. Its version of port wine is selling well in Europe as Starboard."
(For the non-mariners amongs us, starboard is the the right side (pravy bort) of a ship, while port is the left one. Gotta love the bright Californians!) |
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| Out of Africa |
[Jun. 25th, 2004|05:26 pm] |
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It's official now - Mayka is a Masai tribesman: 75th percentile for height, 7th for weight. The tribesman (tribeswoman, tribeschild) is sick now, for the first time, but is shaking her ceremonial spear and jumping high like there is no 38.6 fever. We, over here in America, are learning to take it philosophically. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 7th, 2004|09:37 am] |
Segodnya utrom po puti na rabotu owuwniye bylo takoe, budto ch'i-to moguchie ruki prinesli tycyachi urn i rassypali po Washington Heights ves' musor Manhattan'a. Vse eto kruzhilos' po trotuarom, vlekomoye veyaniem vetra, ili liplo k zemle, vlyublennoe v zhvachku na asfal'te.
A Zhen'ka v eto vremya letela na rabotu. Kakaya raznitsa v sud'be!... |
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| This is beautiful, man! |
[May. 30th, 2004|10:27 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  amused | ] |
Can you recognize me in this? I think this is adorable: Alkin, wanna go out and splurge on my fat paycheck? I'll go all out and get us a happy meal!
Anyway, the remarks below, as quoted in their entirety, are from a California lady (Irina) who writes anonymous comments in Dimka's journal.
"And... let me guess, you would support a US lead war in Africa and/or Latin America should it happen? And you would let your NO WAR signs dust? C'mon! Be true to your anti-American self!
And, by the way, the 9/11 terrorists did not come from the regions you are referring to, they came from the Middle East. That's why the stability of the Middle Eastern region, not Latin America is the priority today. By the way, we have been fighting terrorists there for quite some time now. Oh, that's right, the CNN didn't cover that, or else, how would you know?
Do you seriously think that communism should not be feared? Perhaps you read your history in Latin then, because an estimated 100 million people died during the cold war, all thanks to communism. Oh well, you are alive, and it's all that matters, right?
Feel sorry for you that you have to live and prosper in a country which core capitalistic values you despise so much. Do you ever feel guilty when you get your fat paycheck? You know, you too participate in the exploitation crap! How can you live with yourself?!
Good luck!
Irina:-)"
Don't know if I can live with myself now, after being thus diagnosed. Darn it, I'd try to read some Cicero, but find that only Rush Limbaugh can sooth my aching soul now. I have seen the error of my ways and shall, forever, strive to achieve moral perfection so flawlessly represented in the "Republicans whose vision, bravery, idealism and perseverance had ended yet another war" (that's from another post of hers). Ok, ya, navernoe, zlaya. A pochemu by i net? All my tolerance has been used up on those who truly need it - people I work with. If I'm participating in the exploitation crap anyway, might as well have some fun in the process! |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 25th, 2004|11:12 pm] |
From the National Geographic: "sixty years since D-Day turned the tide of war against Hitler"...
Remarks like these have always made my blood boil. This time, I refused to take this placidly, and Dimka and I wrote an indignat letter to the editor. In the process of writing it, Dimka looked up some hair-raising facts (though the vague knowledge we had before was just as hair-raising). SU lost 6 times as many military personnel fighting Germany as all the other nations at war combined! 12 million to their 2 (200,000 lost by the US, I believe)! And after that this country has the audacity to usurp the victory?!
I'm really glad that we wrote that letter! |
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| as of 7:30 pm today... |
[May. 12th, 2004|07:27 pm] |
We already have 125 completed surveys! Moving speedily along!!!
New York - 29%
Illinois - 21% (Go, Chicago!)
New Jersey - 17%
Massachusets - 14%
California - 5% (6 people! Progress!)
Georgia - 3% (3 people - welcome, "Georgia on my mind...")
The rest - same is before |
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| They used to care how many angels fit on a tip of a needle... |
[May. 11th, 2004|09:08 pm] |
I'm dipping back into history. It may be fake history, but the comfort of it is real. Rutherfurd's "Sarum" promises to take me deep into the mysteries of Britain, ancient and simply old, and I'm diving into it as I once did into Tolkien, feeling the cozy weight of a huge book gradually releasing the secrets of times that passed. Or is all this just a fancy way of justifying my escapism? I did escape into history once before; of course, it was the one that promised the most romance - L'Histoire des Moyens Ages. A professor of mine spoke of a similar move he himself had once made: "Too many Arthurian legends and Robin Hood tales." Too much Hugo and gothic, I'd add, long-tipped shoes and lute music. No doubt I expected to hear "Green Sleeves" whenever I'd ponder taxation writs of Henry I. O, the undergraduate naivete!
Well, not much has changed: again, I feel like studying precise Latin rhymes ("stabat mater dolorosa juxta crucem lacrimosa...") and showing off my knowledge of something made even more romantic by its complete irrelevance. What might it be? 14th century falconry practices in the South-East of England or details of ministrels' costumes in Provence? (Odnako, mne vspomnilsya Bertrand Dufoi :) Silly, silly... Why am I even writing this? For the first time since staring LJ, I feel like I actually want to write, and, naturally, I feel embarrassed. Just one of those moods, I guess. Medieval - that should be on of the LJ mood listings (confused, annoyed, elated, furious, medieval, fascinated, hopeful - now, what kind of a smiley face version would go with this? How about, a smiling unicorn or a disproportional smilik on the ramparts of a primitive fortress.... okay, time to put some embankments around this stream of consciousness. I'm taking off the ermine and a putting on an apron. |
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| Geografiya |
[Apr. 15th, 2004|07:26 pm] |
Dimkina zhizn' na sleduyuwie paru mesyatsev - Barcelona, Toronto, Heidelberg, Sao Paolo, Minneapolis (govorit, pravda, chto neskol'ko raz mel'knet doma).
Moya zhizn' - Fort Lee, Washington Heights, Fort Lee, Washington Heights, Fort Lee, Washington Heights, Fort Lee, Washington Heights, Fort Lee, Washington Heights, Fort Lee, Washington Heights, Minneapolis. Avos' tam i vstretimsya... |
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| Analyze this! |
[Apr. 2nd, 2004|09:14 pm] |
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I asked a 6 year-old boy to draw a person. This is what he came up with: a stick figure with a head, a big round belly with a belly button, long stick legs, a penis, and no arms. Any takers? |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 2nd, 2004|05:43 pm] |
Боже мой, как высоко и далеко все ушли! Все глубоки и мудры, все увлекаются буддизмом, джязом, метафизикой, читают серьезные книги и серьезно их обсуждают в журнале. Все понимают друг друг с полуслова, за что все потом друг друга нежно любят.
А я сижу на стуле, и у меня на коленях Майка. От ее пушистой головки вкусно пахнет Майкой. Она лижет мою левую руку, а правой я постоянно хватаю ее лапки, которые тянутся к кнопкам. Сегодня ночью она научилась сама садиться и всю ночь ликовала по этому поводу. А я ничего не знaю, и мало чего умею. Мне бы воспарить, да не получается. Мне бы проникнуться общей журнальной мудростью и знанием искусства жизни, а я на въeзжаю в половину постов.
Сегодня мне приснился сон, что Алка перестала со мной разговаривать, потому что я предложила не валять дурака и разбудить какого-то типа, чей сон все почему то со страшной силой охраняли. И, в довершение всего, весна явно плюнула на нас и осталась ночевать у знакомых. |
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| Ne lyublyu psihoanaliz! |
[Mar. 15th, 2004|09:34 am] |
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Lovely book my director gave me - something or other on starting therapy with a child, by a distinguishd maitre. What an approach - if a mother talks of her anxiety about a kid and her wish to protect him, why, that just means that she is defending against murderous rage she harbors for him. She doesn't talk about it - neglectful furia... That's why I hate psychoanalysis - the patient can't win. Of course, why would he want to win? The answer is simple, because he is agressive. He doesn't want to win - submissive. In other words, as they say, you're early for your session, you're anxious, on time - obsessive, late - hostile. It's a beautiful thing... |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 15th, 2004|09:26 am] |
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Yedem my vchera s Maykoy domoy, utrom, ot Alki. Na v'yezde na FDR ostanavlivayet menya politseyskiy - svoloch' tolstaya, usataya, samodovol'naya. Deskat' mol, slishkom pozdno pered krasnym ostanovilas', na peshehodnyy perehod zaehala. "What, you got different rules in Jersey?" ... Skotina... "You got a license?", sprashivaet. Rasstegivayu remen', lezu v ryukzak, izvlekayu, pokazyvayu. "Alright, you can go." Lezu v ryukzak, ubirayu koshelek - stuchit po steklu: "Oops, now you can't go?" Pochemu, govoryu? "No seat belt." Ya sterveneyu - "But you saw me take it off to get the license for you!!!!!!!!!!! (you motherfucking sack of scheisse, dumayu pro sebya)" . "Alright, alright...." Otpustil, koroche, sadyuga. I gde ih takih vyvodyat? |
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| Spain |
[Mar. 11th, 2004|04:19 pm] |
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How scary... Somehow it seems that people are at theirm most vulnerable on early mornings when they go to work. And it must have been just an ordinary Thursday morning, a nice one even maybe, and nobody thought getting on the train that they wouldn't get off. Or would barely survive the ride... I cannot believe the cruetly, no savagery of it. How could they, whoever they are?! |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 3rd, 2004|04:04 pm] |
What a day (or two) - somehow Dimka and I came out looking like racist savages in the Parent Forum we're members of. Are we? I still don't think so despite an esteemed member's bucket of righteous indignation that's been dumped on us. She's right, we have no right or authority to disqualify an entire culture as a potential source of excellent babysitters, and still... I've always thought of myself as a relatively tolerant person, so why then do I still feel so firmly that I would never hire a Caribbean nanny? The culture is too different, too foreign, and as much as I would like my baby to join the happy melting pot, it is crucial to me to speak the same language with the person who wipes her toosh and gives her a bottle when I'm not there.
Besides, let's be honest here, and don't give me arguments about people on Upper East and West Sides hiring Caribbean nannies. Is that somehow a sign of cultural tolerance? Quite the opposite most likely is being encouraged. What does the kid end up thinking about his fellow human beings hailing from the Islands if all the Trinidadians, Jamaicans, etc are nannies, while the proud white parents of their charges are movers, shakers, and big time money-makers? |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 1st, 2004|09:34 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | excited | ] |
Justice prevailed, and my favourite New Zealanders took home 11 lovely statuettes! Yes, I know, Oscars is a BS event, tribute to commerce etc, but it felt so good to see a masterpiece acknowledged!.. I feel so excited that I don't even mind the 6 hours of sleep I got afterward. Molodtsy! |
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| Iwu rabotu |
[Feb. 25th, 2004|02:44 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
Tuesday-Thursday, 10-4, doing something vaguely useful and good for the environment, while at the same time having to do with Medieval History or Classics. Wouldn't mind an occasional trip to Europe (no longer than 1 week, but with my family as optional paid-for companions). Must have a sense of complete comptence about the job requirements, while also feeling a certain degree of freshness and novelty. Will travel to the Village; refuse to go below Canal street; will tolerate Upper West Side or Fort Tryon Park. Any offers? |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 23rd, 2004|10:24 pm] |
Pesenka: Ring around a rosie, a poket full of Prozac...
Мне сегодня приснился сон, будто я работаю в старт-апе программистом и чувствую себя при этом припаршиво... И самое ужасное, что именно так я себя теперь чувствую на работе. Ощущение такое, что, не увидев ткани на короле, я бы не заподозрила, что он голый. Так дура я или не на своем месте?... Could be both, of course. |
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| Just a little something... |
[Feb. 11th, 2004|02:48 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  restless | ] |
A February day, colourless, dreary, no magic or hope offered, especially to the miserable me at work for the first time in months. Released from the clutches of my employment (hail to the liberated women!), I board the ugly little home-bound shuttle. And then - a change... Music was playing in the bus, an instrumental piece, something like Legrand, and suddenly, gone was my clumsy fake shearling, the sensible boots, the practical backpack, the veil of despair. Not my weary self, but Irene Jacob, no, better yet, Anouk Aimee, all grace and mystery, was looking out the window as Upper Manhattan, and mid-town Manhattan seen from the bridge morphed into the suburbs of Paris, speeding northwest toward the seaside. No "suburbs" is too mundane a word for my French-movie moment, luchshe po-russki, predmest'ya."
How did it happen that a moment of my prosaic life became a scene from a movie?..background music - a sountrack?... I or Anouk looked on as the sound of Legrand (or not, but close, which is all that matters) turned the blah of New Jersey into an early spring landscape of Normandy. Anouk would have reached to touch the glass, no doubt, and the camera would have lingered a while on her long transparent fingers. Back in the bus, with Legrand now replaced by a Latin beat, it would never occur to me to touch the soot-covered window. Two black dots flashed twice in the corner of the screen, and that meant it was time to switch the reels. |
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