I should be writing a new script. So that I don’t fall behind on my student loans (on can dream, anyway), and so the husband and I can stay fed this summer (the baby, presumably, will have the breast – just like in the “Lady Madonna” song). This naturally means that I am busy participatingContinue reading “Per the Wills and Kate debate: yes, losing your anonymity can, in fact, suck”
Category Archives: Russia
Easter Sunday in Novogireyevo
It’s the sort of day when church bells ring non-stop and people bring their digital SLR cameras and fancily dressed Chihuahuas named Caesar out to various Moscow parks, making me bemoan the fact that our own digital SLR camera is currently in a village outside Voronezh, accompanying my husband on a filming excursion. He canContinue reading “Easter Sunday in Novogireyevo”
Vladimir Lymaryov from Chelyabinsk: you’re awesome. As opposed to Nikita Mikhalkov (I know that comparison makes it easy, but still)
Hence this: From Vladimir Lymaryov & dirty.ru. Did I mention that Vladimir Lymaryov, whoever he is, is kinda awesome? Oh, and look, more awesome here. Meanwhile, releasing “Citadel”, the THIRD freaking installment in the whole “Burnt by the sun” saga, on May 5, just 4 days before the May 9 Victory Day holidays, is NOTContinue reading “Vladimir Lymaryov from Chelyabinsk: you’re awesome. As opposed to Nikita Mikhalkov (I know that comparison makes it easy, but still)”
Glory to Gagarin
🙂 Odd to think that my grandfather apparently met him, once upon a time. Or maybe not so odd, all things considered. I realized this while going through some of my grandfather’s old pictures just a few years ago. There, among faces I didn’t know, or else faces that seemed slightly familiar, shots of oneContinue reading “Glory to Gagarin”
Fear and loathing on the red line
I love the Moscow metro and have written many a paean to it. It’s the perfect place to people-watch, deep in the belly of the city (or on its shallow ends, on the way towards the suburbs), among the marble. The metro goes on and on – it’s the pale, long arms of Moscow, stretchingContinue reading “Fear and loathing on the red line”
Natalia A. 