OLD.

Try, Try to Wrap the Mind Around This.

Just Because the Muslims are engaged in terrorist tactics (and they are) doesn't mean that Russia isn't a totalitarian thug regime. (Same holds true for France, by the way.)

Tonight, We Are All Pyongyang.

Moving On.

The diploma came in the mail today; Pavel found it wedged between the front doors. Brought it in, handed it to me with a grin and said, "Well, I guess that's done with. Maybe you need to get a frame for it."

Eventually maybe. It's awfully nice looking, but I don't know if I could stand having it on a wall staring down at me all the time. On one hand, it's a memento of a hard-won achievement. On the other, I don't much like thinking about that part of the past; it's painful. It doesn't make me physically sick like looking at the transcripts do, but it's not particularly happy, either.

Then there's the future. Goal achieved, a new question looms: what next? I don't see the use of another literature degree. Want to keep up with language but from a more technical point of repair. Translation? Technical documentation? I also want to incorporate new loves that grew from work-work: accounting, statistics. Took a few accounting and finance courses at the local community college to help with work. Am wondering, though, if this is a good thing to continue with given the current witch hunts targeting financial people. Took a statistics course in undergraduate years ago and really enjoyed that. Maybe there's something there for me?

For the moment, am fairly satisfied with the self-study in statistics. Will need to come up with another, more structured action plan, though. Need to think more on graduate/technical certification. Need to think on where and how that's going to take place. Also need to think on supporting myself again. I'm tired of being inactive and would like not to be broke anymore.

Kind of ironic that this is my second time being the unemployed, un-monied new graduate. (Wonder how many more times this is going to happen?)

Salt Peanuts.



A little mood music.

The Frenchie's gotten me into the habit of having a little something before dinner, an aperitif. Generally it's something simple like some cucumbers and smoked fish, some pickles and olives. Maybe a nice tomato if they can be found. If oysters weren't so expensive and the housemate wasn't so grossed out by them, I'd happily start each evening with two or three.

Wandered over to the dollar store the other day to take a look around and was pleased to find a newly-stocked favorite - salted, in-the-shell peanuts at a dollar a bag. The same thing costs $3 or $4 a bag at the neighborhood grocery stores. Of course I got a few bags for the larder.

Tonight, enjoyed a handful before dinner with a bit of fizzy water and some Khatchaturian on the radio. Felt for all the world like the old cocktail hour back in Eastie.

Revolutionary Color.


Pavel sent me this link to some Russian color photography from the beginning of the last century, including the only known picture of Leo Tolstoy.

Though these images were made at about the time when my grandparents were born, they look as though they could have been taken yesterday. Amazing.

Chuck came by this morning at eight with a couple of big, burly boys and an electrician to start another project in the house. This time around, they're reflooring all the parts of the second floor that haven't been tiled and rewiring everything to get it all up to code. Should take about two weeks.

Today was demolition. All the old, mouldering wall-to-wall that remained was ripped up, then the floorboards (some of which were rotten) were removed. What a racket! Poor girl cat was hyperventilating upstairs for a while and even bit me when I tried to comfort her. Eventually she did let me take her downstairs for a bit. Interestingly enough, when she got to see the big, burly boys, she calmed down considerably.

Anyway, we're down to the sub floor in the big bedroom and the hall:



Pavel's room, which is just below mine.



Hallway.



Some of the hundreds of hundred-year-old nails pulled up this morning.

This part went surprisingly fast. Wood's going to be delivered later on this week and, based on when the electricians finish their work, the floor guys will come in either over the weekend or early next week to lay in the new wood. It's going to be red oak. Should be gorgeous.

There's dust everywhere and our movements are seriously restricted, but it's all going to seriously be worth it. Can't wait to see the end results.

"Everything is Amazing Right Now, and Nobody's Happy."



We were howling at this today. I'm not that old, but I remember party lines (my grandparents had one until the early 80s) and relay operators. I remember physically having to go through a catalogue full of actual index cards in a library in order to do research. I remember coffee shop coffee *before* Starbucks. Heck, I remember when my blog was just a bit of scribbles in a notebook (pictures and video not included).

We are spoiled nowadays and I think sometimes that we're too dumb to realize it.

(Thanks, Anna!)

As the Obama campaign's been behaving similarly to Sarkozy's in France last year, figured it might not be a bad thing to revisit this bit I translated on psyching out the electorate with polls.