salienne: (Pirate)
Because it is equal parts bizzarre and awesome:


...inside of whom is Will, inside of whom is Elizabeth, inside of whom is the monkey, inside of whom is a pirate flag.

I love Russian souveniers...

Bonus: Where's Pirate-Waldo? )
^Those who actually find CJS in the above get a ficlet of their choosing!
salienne: (Default)
Yes, yes, that title was a rather terrible mix of Hitchhiker's, Doctor Who, and the present tense, but I just got off a train after 12 hours, so I think that can be excused?

So, I apologize for my absence, everyone, but again, without internet for a few days.

And I have just one word, ONE WORD, to say about St. Petersburg:

PRETTY. PRETTYPRETTYPRETTYPRETTY I WANT MORE PRETTY.

Slightly more than one word, but... sort of is. :P

Also, I currently have taken more than 1500 photographs and managed to use up the camera's battery every day for three days in a row.

So. Much. LJ. To. Catch. Up. On...

How are all of you?
salienne: (DW wth?)
Bizarre Moment of the Day: (also known as Awkward Moment of the Day)

6 PM. Rush hour. Everyone is trying to get home. The metro is absolutely packed, and when people pile into the already filled trolley cars, "packed in like sardines" might be a cliche description but it is by no means inaccurate. These trolley cars also come about every minute (OT, but I love how short the wait is here), so when the train fills up in front of us, my mother and I are perfectly happy letting the doors close in front of us. We can just take the next train.

Now this is when the Moment occurs, because for a few seconds, the train merely stands there, closed with its passengers packed in behind the glass and metal like really unfortunate fish. One particular fish, this man who is in his late 40's at least, is right there at the doors, which have glass windows. He is looking out, I'm looking in, we're both sort of absently looking at one another.

Or so it seems.

Still looking at me, the man raises his right hand and makes a lifting motion at his chest, indicating a breast.

I stare, unable to quite react past "What the hell is he doing?" and "Is that aimed at me?" thoughts.

He then gives me a thumbs up.

Now I was wearing a somewhat low-cut shirt at the time, but not that low-cut (especially not with the way the bra straps lengthened during my walk all day), but even if I was showing it all to the world in a see-through shirt (which I've seen around here), what the hell? I mean... seriously? Seriously?

Forget obnoxious immature teenagers, hello skeevy old men!

Smirking slightly, I flipped the guy off just as the train was leaving. Sadly, Russia doesn't have a special meaning associated with the middle finger, so I don't think he understood.

Still... apparently my breasts are attractive to sketchy old men.

Hoorah.

@_@

ETA: (Completely OT, but...) There is a Russian version of Law $ Order: SVU. Not subtitled. A Russian version.

I am highly highly amused. Yup Russia, you go ahead and blame America for the war with Georgia and puppies dying and the asteroid that destroyed the dinosaurs too. Meanwhile, I'll watch your remakes of American tv. XD

ETA2: And by remakes of American tv, I mean the same exact episodes, rewritten in Russian and re-acted by Russian actors. I just stopped watching because I've seen the original version of the episode in English.
salienne: (Default)
So the past few days, I have been at my uncle's summer house in the country, which was interesting. In short, what I learned in Russia during the past few days:

Day 1: Nature is beautiful and peaceful and cozy and brilliantly complex. Iffy on the outhouses, though. Time to relax.
Day 2: Nature is pretty, still peaceful, still brilliantly complex. I hate outhouses. Must go out and do something.
Day 3: I knew it, I knew it. Freaking spider. In the freaking outhouse. In the pitch-black at 2 AM when I need to pee. Making me go across the property barely able to see past my arm even with the portable lamp, my aunt's warning about kidnappers (seriously) running through my head along with my terror of said spiders and anything else creepy-crawly, only to be stalked by moths in the outhouse and to then make my way back. And huddle in bed. And not sleep. And then have to pee again.

Conclusion: Nature is absolutely wonderful for a day. It is always good on a purely intellectual level. But only if I can spend almost all my time far far away with indoor plumbing and no spiders.

Also, I have many many pictures. They are gorgeous, mainly due to the places here being gorgeous. And I really have to describe the monastery we visited for you guys--so awesome. Definitely must write that post-apocalyptic fic...

ETA: Also, I just checked two medical symptoms I'm having and got two possible causes: anemia or brain cancer.

...Here's hoping it's the former or I'm overreacting?
salienne: (Default)
So, while sitting the car in awful awful gridlock today, I had an idea: why don’t I do an lj post every other day or so concentrating on the facet of Russia that I saw that day? It’d be fun, and hopefully interesting, and it would give me something to come back to.

So, today’s topic:

Graveyards )

And on a lighter note:

Bizarre Moment of the Day: We’re sitting in my uncle’s car at a red light. In front of us, the driver of a large black car decides s/he has had enough of waiting around for silly things like traffic laws. This car drives up onto the curb, over the grass, and onto the sidewalk. It drives along the sidewalk to the gas station up ahead and turns off onto the road currently given a go-ahead by the green light. It then goes off on its merry little way, while we continue sitting at the red light.

My uncle’s explanation: they’re rich and don’t care about paying the fine.

The way these people drive, I believe it.

Also, because I neglected to do this yesterday, a second story for you all.

Bizarre Moment of Yesterday: My mom, uncle, grandma and I are looking at bread in a supermarket. Suddenly someone grabs onto my waist and gently moves me out of the way, like a family member or friend who you’ve known for a while might. I figured it was my uncle (almost okay and sort of annoying) or my mother (okay and sort of annoying).

Nope.

It was an employee. A store employee. A store employee took me by the waist and moved me out of the way to get at the bread. Not even an “Excuse me” or “Sorry.” She just told us to not move the bread around so much. I think she told me to get out of the way, perhaps, but I don’t quite remember.

My initial reaction: O_O

My latter reaction: -_- *Wishes she knew Russian better so as to go and tell this -insert not-so-kind-descriptive-term-here- off*

And that, ladies and gent’s, is that. :D
salienne: (Default)
So here I am, safe and sound with 16 hours of sleep under my belt (and really annoying vertigo, but I get that often and that's beside the point) in my cousin's apartment. In Moscow. Which is, um, yeah, badass, though the most I've seen of Russia thus far is the airport, tiny elevators that close on you, billboards that are partially in English (there's a really bizarre amount of English everywhere), lots and lots of rain, and Russian TV. See, I haven't actually left the apartment today. First sleeping, now babysitting my grandmother. So, um, yay?

But the plug converter (the one my uncle gave me; the one my dad gave me failed) works, my compy is working, and the wireless works on my laptop. w007.

I am, however, far too lazy to post anything too detailed right now, so instead, here are Breaking Dawn thoughts:

Spoilers spoilers, and, ZOMG, spoilers )

Also, Tennyson was mentioned, and this made me think of [livejournal.com profile] rosa_acicularis and giggle.

ETA: My grandmother has textbook GAD. I wonder if there is any way to treat 86-year-old women who can't speak English.

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salienne

July 2011

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