That crappy landlady has died. I can’t say she was particularly nice to us – but she wasn’t an alcoholic or a thief either, and sometimes, that’s the best you can hope for. Rest in peace.
Or, you know, goofing off, depending on how you look at it. You know, Ekaterina Zatuliveter is NOT a spy. I’m amazed at the slut-shaming this woman has endured. All because she’s Russian and gravitates towards older, powerful men. In a normal world, this would have been a phase she would have grown out ofContinue reading “I’ve been working”
Even after living for just a year and a half in a given city, certain places begin to accumulate memories. Good or bad, the memories are like barnacles – which is to say that they endure, remaining prominent in your mind until new ones calcify on top. “Now, the Moskvoretsky Bridge…” I said to my brother-in-lawContinue reading “When we was fab”
I can’t believe that it’s actually over, and I’m expecting to wake up at any point in October and somehow wind up back in September. I went back to work full time and Alexey nearly finished his film. My mother’s been sunning herself on various beaches of the world, so there’s been zero help atContinue reading “September 2011 is over”
Elderly woman gets in at Teatralnaya, on the green line. Hair in an elaborate, bouffant hairdo, covered with a black and white polka dot scarf. Loose zebra-print walking coat. Skinny blue jeans. Black patent leather ballet flats. What I like about this relatively mild period in autumn is that such gorgeousness isn’t hidden under bulkyContinue reading “Random style note from the Moscow metro”