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Friday, July 18, 2003
Ura!
Off to New York!

Okay, that's all I have to say.
- declared by Liusia @ 9:03 AM


Thursday, July 17, 2003
I shouldn't try to write when I have a headache
A worldview-changing event just occurred: my mother called me. Just to talk.

The first thing I though was, "what horrible thing has happened?"

But no horrible thing had happened. She just wanted to chat.

See, the thing with my mom is, she and I really don't chat. Over the phone, we discuss only things that are crucial ("Grandpa died. The funeral is next Friday.") or entirely non-controversial and trivial. ("It's quite hot today." "Yes, hotter than it was yesterday, even." "And I see your shirt is green." "Yes. And my shoes are black.") Okay, so maybe that's a bit too broad of a generalization, but you get the idea. I think it's a combination of our not having much in common and our astounding ability to piss one another off. We have to avoid controversy, and after that, there's not much to discuss. It's a common theme with mothers and daughters, really.

I've been thinking a lot about family lately. Marriage and children is a fairly common topic of conversation between me and Marusya, and then there was that dumb essay I wrote. I don't want kids. I mean, I guess somewhere deep down my stupid ovaries are yelling, "Ooh! Ooh! Let's get some reproduction happening up in here! Propogate the species!" But intellectually, I don't want them. It's not that I think I'd be a terrible parent, but I certainly wouldn't be one of the better ones.

I don't want to be a bad parent. Not having children seems like the most Occam's razor way of avoiding it. I know I, as I am now,wouldn't abandon my kids, or take out my existential angst on them. (I am fairly angst-free, really, when upset, I tend to bawl for a little while, then go back to my regularly scheduled sarcasm.) But wait! What is that on the horizon? It's the HMS Inherited Mental Illness! Boom! The cannons are firing! Agh, it's a volley of bipolar disorder, chronic depression, and social anxiety disorder with an additional battery of alcoholism! Duck and cover, troops!

Seriously.

I don't have any of these things yet, but I'm very worried that one day I'm going wake up and realize I spent all night scribbling nonsense poetry on the wall with a sharpie.

Oh, my God. That suddenly got very serious. I'm sorry, I'll stop now.

But really, if you notice me, like, sharpie-ing up the walls, please say something. Something like, "go see a psychiatrist, you psycho freak!"

So, back to the original topic. My mom called. We chatted. It was nice. What was not nice is that she also told me what Sister #2 has been up to lately. If you guys in back home see her, please, like, slap her upside the head for me. She's panhandling and has not yet seen a doctor about the pregnancy. She's my sister and I love her, but I want to RIP HER EVERLOVING HEAD OFF!

Oh, no! Seriousness again! Topic change.

Dead Russian Poets Society meeting today. It was lovely, although due to the vacation and a showing of the Matrix pa-russki, practically no one came. There's something about sitting around discussing the biblical references in Tiutchev that makes me feel simultaneously like a big culture snob and very intellectual. Also, happy. It's frustrating for me that I can't say what I want to say properly in Russian, because I don't have the vocabulary for it, but it's also very satifying that I at least understand what's going on and can occasionally make a reasonably coherent contribution. I'm always torn between thinking "Oh, smart me, I can discuss golden age poets in a foreign language!" and thinking "Oh, dumb me, I don't even know the word for 'nature!'" Maybe it's snotty and elitist of me, but I really do associate language skills with clarity of thought, and it upsets me deeply to sound like a kindergartener with a concussion half the time.

The seriousness came back again! WHAT IS THIS? It must be the headache. I should just stop writing.

Hey, look, I didn't stop writing.

Here's something less serious! I'm going to New York City tomorrow! Katia and I are driving down. I've never been there, you know. I'm a little bit apprehensive. But cheerful! It's like a tiny miniaturized version of my feelings about study abroad.

So I will probably be sans posts until Sunday. At that point, you can expect a full update.
- declared by Liusia @ 9:55 PM


Wednesday, July 16, 2003
The Damsel of Vermont (A Tale of Morbid Middlebury): Chapter 3
Good readers, I bring to you a tale of flight from fear, of how I turned tail from terror! But I fear to print it here, both for it may scar the very souls of my more delicately-composed readers, and for it is abominably graphic-heavy. So I provide for you this link, saying only...beware. Chapter 3: The Chase (a photo-essay)

- declared by Liusia @ 10:26 PM


Tuesday, July 15, 2003
If I did something stupid, you'd tell me, right?
Ack. New site design. That only took about a million years. Anyway, if you come across any broken links, things that are weird, typos, crazy fonts or misshapen boxes, please let me know.

Also, I have a bunch of emails in my inbox that I haven't yet read or responded to. I'm sorry. Tomorrow, I promise.

What I did today:
This is all I did today. Ta-da!
- declared by Liusia @ 10:30 PM


Monday, July 14, 2003
Update on the cat assassination:
Aww. Kitty.
- declared by Liusia @ 10:49 PM



This man is your FRIEND!
Today was a wash of busywork dotted with spots of intellectual stimulation. I won't bore you with the busywork, but I will bore you with the intellectual stimulation part. I decided to stop auditing the graduate class on modern Russian history, and start going to the Master and Margarita class. See, it's really freakin' hard to convince myself to go to a class I'm not getting any credit for every day, especially when the days are as busy as they are. I think it'll be easier to get myself to a lit class - after all, I haven't read Master and Margarita before, so I'll have curiousity about the story as an incentive to go (I know how recent history ends - I read the newspaper today).

I also watched another Goldovskaya documentary: The Prince is Back. It's about a hereditary prince who's family castle and grounds were, um, collectivized after the Revolution, and his efforts to get them back now that the Soviet Union no longer exists. Basically, he and his family become squatters on the land that belonged to his grandfather, living in the ruin of one of the abandoned mansions. They begin work to restore the place and create a historical landmark. However, the guy pretty much bites at the Trading Spaces thing, and also, the police eventually come and kick them out. Poor things. Of course, it was kind of dumb to move in before all the paperwork was in order.

I got a roll of film developed, so look for some absolutely thrilling photojournalism sometime in the near future.

(Yes, that was sarcasm.)

(About the thrilling photojournalism part, anyway. Of coure I'll post some of the stupid pictures.)

American Weirdness of the Day:
While Katia and I were making a propaganda collage (don't ask) I came across my favorite US propaganda poster of all time. Vot:

Ah, the simplicity. This man is my FRIEND. He fights for FREEDOM. He is helpfully labelled "Russian." What else do I need to know? Ura, propaganda!
- declared by Liusia @ 9:39 PM




Sunday, July 13, 2003
I'm a guinea pig. Squee! Squee!
Well, I just got home from watching two Marina Goldovskaya films. They were...intriguing. The first, The House on Arbat Street, was about the history and residents of a luxurious building on Moscow's main thoroughfare that was turned into communal apartments after the Revolution. The second, Lucky To Have Been Born In Russia, was a personal documentary about her life and that of her friends during the 1993 coup. I think what really made the films was the eccentric and colorful people interviewed; I felt like she really captured people's personalities and feelings. She's been running around with a videocamera the whole time she's been here, and I'm curious to see if she's going to do anything with that footage.

I had an OPI interview earlier today. It was stupid, because they called me about five times to confirm the interview time, then called again this morning, saying they were running late and wanted to cancel, and then again at 2:00, asking me if I could still come in at 2:30. I acquiesced, because what else was I going to do, homework?

To explain: Professor Rifkin is holding a conference here to train people to rate Russian language speaking ability. (I guess there's a whole official rating system, and it's used for stuff like placement testing, job placement, etc.) So, students from the school were asked to serve as guinea pigs, and I volunteered. Like I've said, I'm not particularly good at speaking, and I tend to sound even stupider when taking oral exams, so I figured a thing that was like a test but wouldn't result in a grade would probably be good stress-free progress. Um, aiiiieee. There were like 25 people in the room, all scribbling on little notepads while I was asked questions about life, school, my ideas, and so forth by the workshop leader. A bit unnerving.

The hardest part by far was when she asked about my family, and I mentioned that we have a farm, and she started asking detailed questions about farming. Seriously, you guys, I don't know the name of half the farm equipment and processes and stuff in English, and I certainly don't in Russian. I don't even know the word for "barn." Well, now I do, because I looked it up when I got home. While discussing family, I also mentioned that two of my sisters are overseas adoptions, and she asked a million questions about my their emigration. That was actually easier, because I have a decent politics/geography lexicon, thanks to reading the news and watching movies and such. The part where we discussed educational matters was also pretty easy (as you can imagine, the very fact that I am learning Russian in school means that I know how to talk about school-related things.) I guess it actually went really well (i.e., I did not make a fool of myself) and after the exam, Professor Rifkin congratulated me on how far my speaking ability has come, so that was nice.

On a different note:
Join my e-mafia!
- declared by Liusia @ 8:57 PM




Mandatory karaoke, the Scarlet non-Pimpernel, and borderline blasphemy
Has anyone here read the Nabokov story Cloud, Castle, Lake? Probably not. Just let me tell you that the protagonist, Vassily Ivanovitch, is forced into having artificial fun by evil Germans.

There were no evil Germans involved in yesterday's "fun."

Actually, it wasn't bad. It's just the principle of the thing. We had mandatory karaoke.

"Mandatory karaoke?" You ask yourself. "Isn't that an oxymoron? Isn't karaoke supposed to be intoxicated people singing Patsy Klein at the urging of their less intoxicated friends?" The answer to this question, apparently, is "not here."

Dude, you guys. We had to rehearse. Rehearse! For karaoke!

On a different but related subject, yesterday we were also supposed to watch a documentary film about a gulag or labor camp or some such. The film's director, Goldovskaya, is, I am told, extremely talented and award-winning. But after a rather difficult and crabby-making week, I was not especially keen on watching a documentary, especially a sad one. Besides, they will be showing two more of her films today and one on Monday, and I plan on going to all of those. It's all good.

Katia and I instead went to another film shown on campus, "The Duke and the Lady." It was about a British lady's experience in France during the revolution. The cinematography was extraordinary and unique - the outdoor sets were actually matte paintings, with the people and animals sfx'ed in. The plot was engaging enough, but...I don't know. The primary character was this aristocratic lady trying to avoid persecution and giving frequent speeches about how courageous she was, and how cool the monarchy had been. She was like the Scarlet Pimpernel, but without the color, fire, or basic likability. I had trouble sympathising. I mean, I'm certainly not in favor of rich snobby people being guillotined, but I am in favor of them shutting up every once in a while. And I could NOT figure out why she didn't, like, not wear her floofy expensive dresses and hats when going out in public during the bloody fighting. Hello, muslin is your friend. Wear it, and avoid having your head stuck on a pike. Anyway, it still was a fantastic film, despite my misgivings about the heroine.

Oh, Percy, Percy, Percy!
(Also, whoa. I did not previously realize that Chauvelin was Sir Ian McKellen. Go figure.)


We also also watched two episodes of Brigada. It's like the Russian version of The Sopranos, and pretty darn entertaining. The show's about a group of young gangsters and their (mis)adventures. It's either a recent miniseries or a current TV show, I'm not sure which. The vast majority of what I watched was flashback to the 80s, and if you think US 80s style was funny... Anyway, more episodes will be shown next weekend. I'm looking forward to it. Here's the rockin' theme song:
Vy bandity? Nyet, my Russkii!


This morning, I went to church. Update on the wall-facing statue: It is now facing out, and I think it may be Jesus. It's holding some Easter lilies, anyway. Look, I'm not even going to pretend to understand. Also: the service was nice. I am evil, though, because I was amused by the homily. It was about "witnessing."

In my experience, every couple of years in Catholic church we get an offhand speech about how it's important to witness. I assume this is because the concept is mentioned several times in the New Testament, and as such, you know, they feel we probably should do it. But the Catholic Church isn't too big on pushing for conversions anymore; I imagine we are working off some historical guilt in this area. So today's homily consisted of (I'll paraphrase), "So, you guys should really maybe evangelize in the community. Um, or you could, like, just be obviously Catholic, and then set a good example. Like, wear a crucifix and don't be mean to people, and don't be a big ho. That would be a good way of showing people the faith, so it would be okay too. And pray. And if you know anyone who could maybe be a priest, like, send them this way, 'cuz there's kind of a shortage. Okay, let's sing." Heh. I like church.

Russian Weirdness of the Day:
Russian cat killed in alleged contract killing.
- declared by Liusia @ 11:08 AM

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