So they haven’t turned on the heating yet

And, naturally, I’ve finally gotten sick – the shrinking interval between jumping-out-of-bed and jumping-into-warm clothes/hot shower notwithstanding. To add insult to injury, my mother left home for the market today, and left the keys in the lock. I was wondering why the hell someone was laughing hysterically on the stairwell as I tried to open the front door to let my boyfriend out to the pasture (i.e. to smoke). Would they still be laughing if some stray ash ignited our rug, dooming us to die (me in my underwear no less)? At least we’d finally get warm.

So. Since I am not out showing boyfriend yet more aspects of Exotic Ukraine (our poor ballet tickets! I’m sorry, Yura 😦 ), here are the things we’re amusing ourselves with in the meantime:

I’ve always shied away from calling Bono a douche – but the “modestly named U2 Tower” is giving me some pause. I’m into weird new architecture, even if it is a bit out of place, but U2 Tower? Seriously?

I think Californication is a good show. I don’t care if anyone’s delicate hipster sensibilities are affected by the sight of Natascha McElhone saying the tried and true “you’re wasting your gift” to David Duchovny’s fashionably rumpled writer character. I’ve never been to California, written an “underground bestseller,” or had randomly good sex with a woman who proceeds to steal my records (of which I only have one anyway – “Abbey Road,” which someone fished out of a garage sale bin for me once) – and I relate to this show.

I have decided that I don’t care if Facebook applications are ruining the Feng Shui of my profile. So there.

This week, I am proud of having published this. I’m proud of everything and everyone associated with the sites (they WILL be re-designed soon, I promise), but this is just priceless.

Thanks to me, my brother has discovered Maz Jobrani. My sisterly duties are complete for the next five years. No more helping him memorize Lesya Ukrainka poetry for me.