The day; the life
Nothing more, nothing less. No commentary (I don't think I can not do that myself). I shall attempt to relate what I did during the last 24 hours - aka August 4, 2005.
The stroke of midnight found me seven minutes from Victory Square. I had just decided to stop practicing the trumpet because a light rain was beginning. Of course I didn't have a coat, but that is a minor detail. Man with trumpet case, camera pouch, and headphones - nice!
I wanted to photo the city at night but wasn't sure at what time exactly the lit fountains stopped working. Sometime before 0:07, the water stopped its spouting. Still, I managed to photo a few interesting things. The tabletop tripod that I use makes for some unusual angles when placed on the ground, but pain in the legs and dirt on the pants gets old. The added two feet of a trumpet case seems to be just what the doctor ordered.
Home a bit before 2, I showered myself and grabbed a small bit of grub. After checking my email I figured it'd be in the best interest to call the girlfriend and see what she was up to. She was searching (successfully) for potatoes in the supermarket. Spent a bit more time proofing the dead dish before she got published. While that was happening, I IMed (what is the correct spelling of IM when used as a verb, anybody?) one of my students. Last night was our last class and just said hi and joked around a little bit. A bit later I had another chat session with the girlfriend. Promising to go to bed soon, I closed the chat program and let her attend to her burnt potatoes.
By the time I finally sacked out it was somewhere around 4 and I hadn't finished my homework for Russian class. Fortunately, the alarm didn't disturb my slumber and I finally lumbered out of bed a quarter to nine. Rushing around, I started breakfast and then set about finishing up my final test for Russian. About two hours later I was as done as I was ever going to be and threw some clothes on, dashing out the door chomping on a fresh stick of gum.
The ladies at the office had asked me to bring some of my ties to work so they could play dress up Troy. I obliged them and brought a smattering of my funnier ones. Since today was my final Russian lesson, I was in a bit of a rush to scan a book that I had to return. It was actually pretty nice - I explained my minor escapades of the prior evening and every 20 seconds or so pressed the scan button and flipped a page of the book. Before long, Valya realized that she was sitting at the computer, yet I kept reaching over her to press the 'Next Page' and then 'Scan' button. She decided to be helpful. It was fine and then her bright blue eyes noticed that the area to be scanned was roughly the size of a postage stamp. Fortunately, only ten pages had passed since the frame was changed and I finished without incident.
I gave my first lesson in the fineries of Skype and tried to answer questions as accurately as possible. Leaving my bag of ties, I promised to return before the end of the day so they could make lovely photos together with me. One glance at the clock on the mobile told me that I would not be on time for my lesson. Boarding the bus, I phoned my teacher and told her I'd be about ten minutes late. While on the bus I got out a small piece of paper and made a list of pieces I could play including necessary vocabulary words in preparation for my farewell concert.
Maybe half way from the bus stop to my language school a horn honked. Who should pull over next to me but the director of the Privet! Russian Language School. It was great to have a ride, and she taught me some new phrase on the way. Naturally, it has slipped my mind. Nine minutes late, I entered the classroom.
Sitting down, I braced myself to review the test. After I returned all the materials that she had lent me, my teacher pushed a book across the table in my direction. She explained that it was her present to me and then proceeded to sign it. "The Rules of Russian Grammar" - just what I need (no, really)! Maybe two minutes before the thought had crossed my mind that I should give something to my teacher for all that she has done. But I consoled myself with the thought that I could bring some flowers by next week sometime.
I only found my eyes closed unexpectedly one time during our lesson. The test was pretty far over my head I think, but after looking the words up in the dictionary I got most of it. A few minutes past two, my teacher asked me if I was ready for the concert. Ready or not, it was gonna happen, so I packed up.
Two or three weeks ago I brought my trumpet with me to my language lesson so that I could practice later that evening without an intermediate trip home. One of the staff asked me to play a few things, which I did. The idea was born that I should give a concert and I agreed. Naturally, I thought I'd sit down and pick out some interesting things to play and maybe even prepare small explanations for each piece so that my Russian was understandable. I don't think a scrap of paper and a 10 minute bus ride qualifies. Anyhow, without so much as a warm-up toot, I explained my first piece and set off. Judging by the time I finished I probably played for 25 or 30 minutes.
A small surprise for me followed - a cake with some kind of berries. I think they just wanted me to take it home, but I quickly asked for help and in 10 minutes all that remained were two small slivers. A hair past three I bid my final adieus and with my bilingual certificate in hand I exited the building. Entering my bus, I eventually found my way to the bus station where I purchased a ticket for 6:20 tomorrow morning. On a rainy weekend I'm headed to the beach to sleep in a tent (cue Mommy's voice, "Do you have rocks in your head boy???").
Thinking of a farewell present for a certain somebody, I stopped by a nearby camera store and looked at what they had available. After I promised Anastasia I would hit the sack earlier this morning, I actually looked around for cameras a little bit and found one I thought would work. This store had the exact one in stock and I asked to take a peak. What do you know but the battery was dead (or as they say over here, eaten). I waited for ten minutes while the clerk charged it up a little bit so I could give it a whirl. The main thing I was looking for was how it felt in the hand and whether or not it had Russian menus. My head didn't work and I couldn't remember the correct way to ask what the stores hours were. I already knew, but just wanted to double check. After talking around the question for a few seconds the guy understood what I was asking but I blew my I'm-really-a-Russian-dude cover in the process.
Another bus ride home for a small snack. A few minutes before five I got off and was greeted by a strange sight. A fairly big banner with a metal frame was just laying on the ground. I looked at it, but kept on going. Maybe two minutes down my street I looked back and from the distance recognized that the metal frame was supposed to be mounted on the light post. The banner was from the city holiday a month ago and somehow fell down. By the time I opened my apartment's door I had decided to commit my bad deed for the day.
Without taking my shoes off I tiptoed through the kitchen and grabbed my pair of scissors. Back to the fallen sign I traipsed and liberated it from the frame, rolled it up, and returned to my residence equipped with a five foot or so souvenir. Dirty, yes, but rather slick. If you're wondering, the bad deed would be walking in the apartment without first removing my shoes.
Fed and my remaining ties in the backpack I departed for the last time today. When I hopped aboard the trolley-bus I chucked my ear-buds in and cranked up the tunes. Less than half an hour before closing time I made my way into the office. Valya and Galya (the daughter of the accountant) were lazing in their swivel chairs each wearing one of my ties around their neck. I thought it was pretty funny so snagged the camera and made a few memories real quick. The next twenty minutes were probably some of the more embarrassing of the day. First I taught Valya how to tie a tie the Troy way. Then we proceeded to tie all the ties. Then 4 on me, and 3 on each of the girls. Then all on me. Then all on my neck. Then I don't remember what. But there was a lot of laughter and nobody died, so that is good.
Ira, the accountant, finally said it was time to go and dragged her daughter off. I stayed and gazed deeply into Valya's eyes as I helped translate something for her friend. It sounded to be a profile of some desperate dude on a 'find your dream man' website. Translation complete, tea drinking commenced. We killed time for the next little bit until the evening lesson began. I'm the teacher and Valya is one of the students.
On the way to school we attempted to locate a barber that would still be open after class. I had forgotten that I wanted to get my hair trimmed before this weekend. Nothing promising found, I decided to finish class a few minutes early and try to make it back to my street before they closed. Our lesson was nice enough, only three people came. Before I knew it, it was over too.
At the bus stop. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. And then a trolley-bus. A trolley-bus that should have been put out to pasture long ago. I kept hoping I'd make it back in time, but I didn't. Nine minutes past the cut off for new customers I entered my salon.
Marshmallows. The sixth food group. The one that the Russians don't have. Not using my money for hair, I decided to search for marshmallow replacement for the bonfire this weekend. Three stops later I jumped off my favorite tram and commenced the search for marshmallow substitute. I found something similar that seemed to hold its shape decently while I pinched it. But only the first 7 pinches, though. On the eighth it kind of flaked away.
Before bringing useless food with me, might as well test it out, right? I fired up the stove and placed a marshmallow on my potato poker. A little bit sweeter than marshmallows, but similar characteristics. Even the skin pulls off when it gets brown. I dare say that my discovery burns better than marshmallows. At the end of the second marshmallow I decided to lick the skewer. Bad idea. Now the corner of my lips are missing a bit of their normal feeling.
I've probably forgotten some interesting things from today. But probably also some boring ones. That and in light of the fact that I've not packed anything and my bus leaves very soon, I'd say that this is enough of a day. Later I'll return and clean up the recount so that it is a little less monotonous, but for now please excuse my typos and repetitive, "and then I got off the bus and then I got on the bus and then the bus got on me and then boarded the tramway and then on the trolley and then and then and then...."
The stroke of midnight found me seven minutes from Victory Square. I had just decided to stop practicing the trumpet because a light rain was beginning. Of course I didn't have a coat, but that is a minor detail. Man with trumpet case, camera pouch, and headphones - nice!
I wanted to photo the city at night but wasn't sure at what time exactly the lit fountains stopped working. Sometime before 0:07, the water stopped its spouting. Still, I managed to photo a few interesting things. The tabletop tripod that I use makes for some unusual angles when placed on the ground, but pain in the legs and dirt on the pants gets old. The added two feet of a trumpet case seems to be just what the doctor ordered.
Home a bit before 2, I showered myself and grabbed a small bit of grub. After checking my email I figured it'd be in the best interest to call the girlfriend and see what she was up to. She was searching (successfully) for potatoes in the supermarket. Spent a bit more time proofing the dead dish before she got published. While that was happening, I IMed (what is the correct spelling of IM when used as a verb, anybody?) one of my students. Last night was our last class and just said hi and joked around a little bit. A bit later I had another chat session with the girlfriend. Promising to go to bed soon, I closed the chat program and let her attend to her burnt potatoes.
By the time I finally sacked out it was somewhere around 4 and I hadn't finished my homework for Russian class. Fortunately, the alarm didn't disturb my slumber and I finally lumbered out of bed a quarter to nine. Rushing around, I started breakfast and then set about finishing up my final test for Russian. About two hours later I was as done as I was ever going to be and threw some clothes on, dashing out the door chomping on a fresh stick of gum.
The ladies at the office had asked me to bring some of my ties to work so they could play dress up Troy. I obliged them and brought a smattering of my funnier ones. Since today was my final Russian lesson, I was in a bit of a rush to scan a book that I had to return. It was actually pretty nice - I explained my minor escapades of the prior evening and every 20 seconds or so pressed the scan button and flipped a page of the book. Before long, Valya realized that she was sitting at the computer, yet I kept reaching over her to press the 'Next Page' and then 'Scan' button. She decided to be helpful. It was fine and then her bright blue eyes noticed that the area to be scanned was roughly the size of a postage stamp. Fortunately, only ten pages had passed since the frame was changed and I finished without incident.
I gave my first lesson in the fineries of Skype and tried to answer questions as accurately as possible. Leaving my bag of ties, I promised to return before the end of the day so they could make lovely photos together with me. One glance at the clock on the mobile told me that I would not be on time for my lesson. Boarding the bus, I phoned my teacher and told her I'd be about ten minutes late. While on the bus I got out a small piece of paper and made a list of pieces I could play including necessary vocabulary words in preparation for my farewell concert.
Maybe half way from the bus stop to my language school a horn honked. Who should pull over next to me but the director of the Privet! Russian Language School. It was great to have a ride, and she taught me some new phrase on the way. Naturally, it has slipped my mind. Nine minutes late, I entered the classroom.
Sitting down, I braced myself to review the test. After I returned all the materials that she had lent me, my teacher pushed a book across the table in my direction. She explained that it was her present to me and then proceeded to sign it. "The Rules of Russian Grammar" - just what I need (no, really)! Maybe two minutes before the thought had crossed my mind that I should give something to my teacher for all that she has done. But I consoled myself with the thought that I could bring some flowers by next week sometime.
I only found my eyes closed unexpectedly one time during our lesson. The test was pretty far over my head I think, but after looking the words up in the dictionary I got most of it. A few minutes past two, my teacher asked me if I was ready for the concert. Ready or not, it was gonna happen, so I packed up.
Two or three weeks ago I brought my trumpet with me to my language lesson so that I could practice later that evening without an intermediate trip home. One of the staff asked me to play a few things, which I did. The idea was born that I should give a concert and I agreed. Naturally, I thought I'd sit down and pick out some interesting things to play and maybe even prepare small explanations for each piece so that my Russian was understandable. I don't think a scrap of paper and a 10 minute bus ride qualifies. Anyhow, without so much as a warm-up toot, I explained my first piece and set off. Judging by the time I finished I probably played for 25 or 30 minutes.
A small surprise for me followed - a cake with some kind of berries. I think they just wanted me to take it home, but I quickly asked for help and in 10 minutes all that remained were two small slivers. A hair past three I bid my final adieus and with my bilingual certificate in hand I exited the building. Entering my bus, I eventually found my way to the bus station where I purchased a ticket for 6:20 tomorrow morning. On a rainy weekend I'm headed to the beach to sleep in a tent (cue Mommy's voice, "Do you have rocks in your head boy???").
Thinking of a farewell present for a certain somebody, I stopped by a nearby camera store and looked at what they had available. After I promised Anastasia I would hit the sack earlier this morning, I actually looked around for cameras a little bit and found one I thought would work. This store had the exact one in stock and I asked to take a peak. What do you know but the battery was dead (or as they say over here, eaten). I waited for ten minutes while the clerk charged it up a little bit so I could give it a whirl. The main thing I was looking for was how it felt in the hand and whether or not it had Russian menus. My head didn't work and I couldn't remember the correct way to ask what the stores hours were. I already knew, but just wanted to double check. After talking around the question for a few seconds the guy understood what I was asking but I blew my I'm-really-a-Russian-dude cover in the process.
Another bus ride home for a small snack. A few minutes before five I got off and was greeted by a strange sight. A fairly big banner with a metal frame was just laying on the ground. I looked at it, but kept on going. Maybe two minutes down my street I looked back and from the distance recognized that the metal frame was supposed to be mounted on the light post. The banner was from the city holiday a month ago and somehow fell down. By the time I opened my apartment's door I had decided to commit my bad deed for the day.
Without taking my shoes off I tiptoed through the kitchen and grabbed my pair of scissors. Back to the fallen sign I traipsed and liberated it from the frame, rolled it up, and returned to my residence equipped with a five foot or so souvenir. Dirty, yes, but rather slick. If you're wondering, the bad deed would be walking in the apartment without first removing my shoes.
Fed and my remaining ties in the backpack I departed for the last time today. When I hopped aboard the trolley-bus I chucked my ear-buds in and cranked up the tunes. Less than half an hour before closing time I made my way into the office. Valya and Galya (the daughter of the accountant) were lazing in their swivel chairs each wearing one of my ties around their neck. I thought it was pretty funny so snagged the camera and made a few memories real quick. The next twenty minutes were probably some of the more embarrassing of the day. First I taught Valya how to tie a tie the Troy way. Then we proceeded to tie all the ties. Then 4 on me, and 3 on each of the girls. Then all on me. Then all on my neck. Then I don't remember what. But there was a lot of laughter and nobody died, so that is good.
Ira, the accountant, finally said it was time to go and dragged her daughter off. I stayed and gazed deeply into Valya's eyes as I helped translate something for her friend. It sounded to be a profile of some desperate dude on a 'find your dream man' website. Translation complete, tea drinking commenced. We killed time for the next little bit until the evening lesson began. I'm the teacher and Valya is one of the students.
On the way to school we attempted to locate a barber that would still be open after class. I had forgotten that I wanted to get my hair trimmed before this weekend. Nothing promising found, I decided to finish class a few minutes early and try to make it back to my street before they closed. Our lesson was nice enough, only three people came. Before I knew it, it was over too.
At the bus stop. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. And then a trolley-bus. A trolley-bus that should have been put out to pasture long ago. I kept hoping I'd make it back in time, but I didn't. Nine minutes past the cut off for new customers I entered my salon.
Marshmallows. The sixth food group. The one that the Russians don't have. Not using my money for hair, I decided to search for marshmallow replacement for the bonfire this weekend. Three stops later I jumped off my favorite tram and commenced the search for marshmallow substitute. I found something similar that seemed to hold its shape decently while I pinched it. But only the first 7 pinches, though. On the eighth it kind of flaked away.
Before bringing useless food with me, might as well test it out, right? I fired up the stove and placed a marshmallow on my potato poker. A little bit sweeter than marshmallows, but similar characteristics. Even the skin pulls off when it gets brown. I dare say that my discovery burns better than marshmallows. At the end of the second marshmallow I decided to lick the skewer. Bad idea. Now the corner of my lips are missing a bit of their normal feeling.
I've probably forgotten some interesting things from today. But probably also some boring ones. That and in light of the fact that I've not packed anything and my bus leaves very soon, I'd say that this is enough of a day. Later I'll return and clean up the recount so that it is a little less monotonous, but for now please excuse my typos and repetitive, "and then I got off the bus and then I got on the bus and then the bus got on me and then boarded the tramway and then on the trolley and then and then and then...."
posted by Troy on 23:59
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If 'IM' means 'instant message', then 'IMed' would mean 'instant messaged'. Makes sense to me.
then the bus got on me
The 10z3r5 on /. post useless comments like "In Soviet Russia, the bus rides YOU!"
And what is the Russian marshmallow, or rather the substitute for the American marshmallow, called? I wonder what you found ;)
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