twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?"

Author: place2place

  • dreamy

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    Sound it out, the big word on the cover of the Bolshoy Ballet's program, move your lips to each Russian letter: Giselle. Also, it's not black nail polish, it's very dark red. The older I get, the more my hands look like my dad's. Oh well.

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    At the theater, before the performance, have a glass of Russian champagne.

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    Small theater at the Big Theater.

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    The ghosts of the second act of Giselle. I'd never cried at a ballet before…it was otherworldly. Must go buy more ballet tickets.

  • domashnia robata ruskie | russian homework

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    Between, Dina, Camille and Stefan, Stefan's is winning the Learning Russian race by a mile.

  • ketcheps, sauces and what to wear to the grocery store

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  • a weekend to remember

    Aside from the already described encounters at the grocery store and mall, Dina and I stayed up super late Friday night looking up guitar music on the internet, playing guitar and drinking wine. We laughed and laughed, and were surprised that when we went to bed it was 2:00 in the morning.

    On Saturday morning, I walked to the farmer's market, a billboard showed the temperature at -3 degrees celcius. We had invited one of my doctors and his wife and kids over for Sunday brunch. Dina made Milla's current scones and pumpkin muffins served with fruit salad and Russian tea.

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    That night, was the Marine Corps ball (233 yrs. old). Dina wore a beautiful strapless dress with high heeled shoes and pearls. So pretty. For a moment, I felt like I was giving her away and then I realized she's mine for keeps. The food was delicious and the alcohol was free! The Ambassador gave a great speech. He compared the navy to an SUV: stylish yet rugged. Well dressed and utilitarian. The air force he compared to a Corvette: sexy and fast. Able to get around quickly. The army is like a 4X4 pick-up truck: can get just about anywhere and drop a load. But the Marines; well, they're of a different caliber all together. They are like a Harley-Davidson. Drop down on you like thunder and gone before you know it. And then we danced.

    Yesterday we recovered from the Ball. In the evening, Dina and I went to the Bolshoi Ballet to see Giselle. Again she looked perfectly styled in her black dress and shawl. We sat on the wing of the orchestra section. The ballet was by far the best of any we had ever seen. Every set was dreamy. The dancing was superb and the unison and choreography was flawless. 

    Today is another work day. But tomorrow is a Russian holiday,woo-hoo.

  • funny things

    Dina and I just spent a few hours at the European mall. An unbelievably enormous shopping mall packed with hundreds of stores and thousands of people. Just one metro stop away! The Russians seemingly have unlimited spending ability. Shoes, lingerie, furs, jewelry; you name it, they are buying it. We went to Zara, a clothing store, to return a vest Dina bought me because it didn't fit and they didn't have my size. An open floor plan displays women's and men's clothing on opposite sides of the store. And you cannot cross over from one to the other if you are holding any merchandise. We stood in line for 30 minutes just to return the vest, which required one sales person plus two other signatures. 

    We exited and came upon a manicure counter, Dina had her nails done. While they filed, soaked, and cleaned her nails, the owner or manager came over to chat while the manicurist continued her work. When she found out we are from America and asked what it is like, she said, "most Russians are afraid to go there as many Americans are afraid to come here. In America bears roam the streets!" and she made a face in horror while shaking her hands and miming a silent scream. Dina was debating what nail color to apply and the manager talked her into "Midnight in Moscow." A deep red, almost black color. Dina was a bit shocked but it looks great! 

    While standing in line at the grocery store, a young girl in a short tennis skirt outfit approached me and asked me if I smoked. She was offering some new brand of cigarettes or something. "No," I replied. "Excellent choice" she answered, and walked away. We laughed. The young couple behind us were being funny too. The girl came to him carrying one small package of crackers. "You were gone 15 minutes and that's all you brought?!" he asked, truly amazed. Then he grabbed a huge softball sized lollipop and told her she had to have it. "Maybe next time," she said.

  • red blooded american

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    I've had a few emails from people wanting to know about the Russian reaction to the elections. So I wandered over to the embassy to find someone to speak for their entire country. Natalia showed Stefan his anemic blood under the microscope–apparently his blood cells are shaped liked hot-dogs and coke bottles–I wonder why? I asked her what she thought of the American elections. "Obama won," is the official comment.

  • wake up and vote america

    For Peter and I, it's already Tuesday evening. There weren't any hamburger buns for our Bocca burgers at the commisary, so I'm baking yeast rolls to use for buns and Peter is playing guitar. We are so frustrated with the time difference between here and the US on election day. It's pretty much a twelve hour difference–okay it's eleven but it's easier to figure out if you just remember twelve– between us sitting here in our living room in Moscow and the West Coast…so I guess in the morning I'll find out how it's going…

  • first november

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    The building next door. I told you you'd see it a lot. 

    We went for a walk this evening to a the fancier-than-France bakery Moscow Mom introduced us to, oo la la. We bought ham and cheese pizza slices, bread with raisins, two baguettes and croissants for the morning. Stefan rode his bike.

    Stefan and Camille have POUNDS of candy from Halloween–Stefan had everything for a perfect cowboy costume, but wanted to wear his last year's tiger costume topped by a witch's hat. He said he was a Tee Witch. A very Ramona-the-Pest kind of costume with a high "huh?" factor. Camille reprised last year's pirate look.

    Now the election. Deep breath. To get it to a mail box in time, my ballot was patriotically escorted home by a Marine.

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  • woooorrrk! thing

    OMG! OMG! The (hopefully not illegal) piggyback thingie works! I can use my American iPhone with a Russian sim card! I keep looking at the moving bar on the top, showing that the phone is connected. What a beautiful thing. Total cost for the "jailbreak" $57.

    We stood in M. Video (They stole Target's logo, so I call it Not Target) for a long time, trying to decide on which beautiful tv to buy. We asked the sales person which he thought was better of the two we were deciding between. He pondered for a moment and then declared that the Sony was better. "Why?" we asked."Is more interesting," he answered.

    Now if I could just get the new tv going. It's in Russian, so I can't set it up. Hope it works! Must. Be. Working. By. Sunday. This weekend's Saturday Night Live (Which I should call Sunday Afternoon Rebroadcast) has both Tina Fey and, wait for it…the musical guest? David Cook! Our boy going big time, playing with his old band reconfigured (now he's the front man), singing one, maybe two songs off the new unreleased CD. "I hope I don't get caught lip-syncing," he says.

    Updated to add: Peter's co-worker got the tv working, not only working but advanced working, with sound and everything. Is it Sunday yet?

  • was it a party?

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    Carl Sagan here. Billions and billions of boxes floating in space! Or on the floor, it's really all the same. We definitely have too much (beep)! The universe is constantly expanding. But not our apartment. 

    It reminds me of the time my parents retired, sold their Carmel Valley home, and packed up to move to Idaho (of all places)! My mother offered us some furniture and miscellaneous kitchen items including a Cuisinart, we'd never owned one before. We received it in a box and didn't bother taking it out until a year later when I was about to make the cranberry relish for Thanksgiving. I pulled it down from a dusty top shelf and pulled it out of the box. The interior of the Cuasinart had some kind of black and mildewed concoction. We finally determined that it was guacamole. Dina and I started laughing because we could just imagine my mother about to wash it and my father shouting as he's packing up his bar, "Just put it in the BOX!"

    We still use the same circa 1980 Cuisinart. Or we will when we unpack it.

    Wait! Is that wine in the foreground?! I think it's time for a break. DINA!