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Tuesday, February 1st, 2005
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10:58 pm
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Living for so long in a foreign country and not learning the language while forgetting your own, guess what's the most scary part? You check the dictionary and realise that not only don't you understand the english word but also it's translation meaning!
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| Friday, January 14th, 2005
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4:35 pm
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| Wednesday, January 12th, 2005
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3:00 pm
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You Know You're Russian When.... |
Your car costs more than your college education
Your blood has a permanent vodka content level, no matter you have been drinking or not
Any outfit you wear involves leather (even in the summer even when no coats are worn)
Your idea of a normal Friday or Saturday night is spending it raving with 200-300 of your closest friends
Your idea of a love song is Track 1 of the New York Underground Party Volume 3 CD.
Things you can't live without include food, water, and a cell phone
Instead of notes during class you write text messages to your friends in Russian font
You come home at 3am and your parents are still out partying with all your friend's parents
People are always asking you if you can get them a cheep deal on something...and you can
Every sentence you say or hear starts with "blyat" and ends with "nahuy"
You know the new line of Nokia's 3 months before they come out on the market
You can't go to the movies on Sunday night without having to save 20 seats for your late friends cuz they're buying semichki
You don't mind family get-togethers because you know the grandmas will be making dinner
You know all the cops by their first names
You know someone who works at a dental lab
You are somehow related to most of the people you know
On the weekends your place of residence is the pool hall, and every 10 mins the tolstii pon'chik tells you to pick up line 2
You drive a Honda (or, in the EXTREME worse case a Nissan), and your windows are tinted to twice the legal limit
Your Honda has either a RU (Russia) or UA (Ukraine) sticker on the back bumper
Your Honda is a 5-speed stick shift, and you laugh at anyone driving an automatic by calling them lohs
At any given moment you are carrying at least a dime bag of shmal'...
Your uncle is in the Russian Mafia or is a former employee of the KGB
You have been kicked out of the JCC at least twice for trying to sneak in without paying.
You can be identified as "Russian" by your scent (D&G or Aqua de Gio cologne).
The waitresses at Omega know your order even before you say anything. Most of the time you get "Gypsy".
You met your girl playing strip durak at the last party you went to.
Everyone you know has a ruchka of smirnoff in their trunk.
You wake up on a saturday morning, unable to remember which one of your friends gave you a ride home because you couldn't even walk, but see your car standing in the parking lot (you drove home yourself).
You start thinking of bread as a good mixer for vodka
You know more than 30 Olgas, Annas, Natashas, and Vikas
You have to tell your parents what channel is "YOUR" HBO, Showtime, Per-View is on.
Your parents have computer "experience" for 8 years already on the resume, yet they been in US for only 4...
You major in Computer Science or in worst case scenario Information Systems (but you still barely know how to turn on a computer).
You have a personalized license plate.
When you are going downtown you ride in one of the last two train carts.
Typical Friday/Saturday night phone call to your friends starts with "So what are we doing tonight?"
Most of your clothes are fake brand names but you "just can't tell them apart from the real ones."
Your fake id is the International Driving License who you got through your friend who goes to Kingsburough.
You used to work out, but you don't anymore. If you do workout, you must wear all you golden chains and bracelets.
Lifting a cigarette while drinking coffee counts as an exercise.
You have a fake Movado because you can't afford a real Rolex.
Once in a while you attempt to go to synagogue but you never make it past the door because you meet so many people you haven't seen for so long.
Some English words like "use, shop, apply, and etc." permanently become a part of your conversational
You're proud to be Russian - and you pass these jokes on to all your Russian friends!
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| Friday, December 31st, 2004
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2:17 am
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You Know You Drink Too Much When... |
Your doctor finds traces of blood in your alcohol stream.
The back of your head keeps getting hit by the toilet seat.
The parking lot seems to have moved while you were in the bar
When you go to donate blood and they ask what proof?
You think the Four Basic Food Groups are Caffeine, Nicotine, Alcohol, and Hotties.
You have a "happy hour" at home
When you are sober, people ask you what's wrong?
You spend all night making a board game called Alcohol Land
Although you drove home the other night you can't remember how you got home or where you parked your car
"Hi ocifer. I'm not under the affluence of incohol."
Your favorite drink is ethanol.
"Why does everybody think I have a prinking droblem?! - I don't have a prinking droblem!"
"I don't have a drinking prob..pleb..prub.. *hic* Pash me another, tarbender."
You can spend a whole night holding up walls to prevent their (your) collapse.
You instinctively know where the alcohol is in a store you've never been in before
Clubs raise their drink prices because you haven't attended in a while
You think beer and ramen make a good breakfast
You frequently urinate outdoors.
When you first wake up and you're afraid you're gonna die and a half-hour later you're afraid you won't.
You fall asleep taking a dump.
You believe that spilling a beer is alcohol abuse.
You go to the john to hurl, but you take your beer with you.
You find it's easier to study drunk.
You're on a first name basis at the detoxification center.
Beer ads make sense.
You wake up to the sound of your dog drinking out of the toilet and you're so dry that it sounds mighty thirst quenching.
You wake the next morning and start drinking a few of the half empties left sitting around the room.
The space on your driver's license that tells your eye color reads "bloodshot".
You fall down a flight of steps and DON'T spill a drop of your beer.
You mix your cocktails by the litre.
You grow a beard because it stops beer that's running down your chin.
You put off urinating in hopes of reaching that near orgasmic Zen-like piss.
When the bottle says 20 standard drinks but you only get 5.
You spell Alcohol with a capital letter out of respect
You lose arguments with inanimate objects.
You have to hold onto the lawn to keep from falling off the earth
Your career won't progress beyond Senator from Massachusettes.
24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case - coincidence?? - I think not!
Two hands and just one mouth... - now THAT'S a drinking problem!
"Norm!" is what they say when you enter the bar.
You can focus better with one eye closed
The parking lot seems to have moved while you were in the bar
You fall off the floor.
You discover in the morning that liquid cleaning supplies have mysteriously disappeared.
Hey, 5 beers has just as many calories as a burger, screw dinner!
Beer: it's not just for breakfast anymore.
The glass keeps missing your mouth.
Vampires get woozy after bitting you.
At AA meeting you begin: "Hi, my name is... uh..."
Your idea of cutting back is less seltzer.
You wake up in the bedroom, your underwear is in the bathroom, you fell asleep clothed. - hmm.
Every night you're beginning to find your roomate's cat more and more attractive.
If you're on a diet, you cut back your food calories to allow for alcohol calories.
"Take me drunk, I'm home!"
You wake up naked lying in the corner of a bus depot.
You drink to get over a hangover.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who drink too much. |
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| Wednesday, September 22nd, 2004
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10:36 am
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Scorpio - Your Love Profile
Your positive traits:
You're red hot passion makes anyone you date feel extremely wanted
Loyalty, to the point of doing anything to protect your lover
You are mysterious and charismatic - and you easily draw people in
Your negative traits:
You tend to be paranoid and think that the worst is going on with your lover
You turn cold and mean at the first sign of conflict in relationship
You sometimes become obsessed with dates - so much so that you develop jealousy early on
Your ideal partner:
Someone who will take the time to win you over. Not an easy task!
Is able to keep up with your carnal appetite... lots of stamina needed.
Reassures you of their love and loyalty on a daily basis.
Your dating style:
Intense. You prefer to stay in with take out and conversation - so that no one else is distracting you and your date.
Your seduction style:
Hot. New partners have trouble believing that your libido is for real.
You have incredible sexual intuition - you always know what your lover craves
A bit bossy. You know what you want, and you certainly aren't afraid to ask for it.
Tips for the future:
Don't be so secretive with your love - they want you the way you are
Let go of your jealousy. Your partner has chosen *you*
Spend more time alone, doing things you love. It will help you be less obsessive.
Best place to meet someone online:
eHarmony - your best bet at screening out untrustworthy people
Best color to attract mate: Dark red
Best day for a date: Tuesday
Get your free love profile at Blogthings.
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| Tuesday, August 31st, 2004
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10:58 pm
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| Saturday, May 8th, 2004
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6:30 pm
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in our society anything can be appropriated and
sold as merchandise be it beauty, ugliness, anger,
sadness, tradgedy real or imagined thusly
undermining the true beauty of personal
imagination and freedom of expression
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| Thursday, April 29th, 2004
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9:31 am
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passion is an aspect of life and a state of being. Passion embraces you and embraces the life you lead.
Romance is the embodiment of passion. Rolling over in the morning and holding him in my arms kissing him to start the day. Phone calls, IM notes, moments of thoughts just of him. Greeting him at the end of the work day with a hug, a kiss and a "I missed you." Ending the day in each other's arms talking, whispering about the day gone by and the days to come.
Having one who is the center of your universe and you cannot wait to get back to him. Growing with him, growing as a result of his, growing closer each day.
Guiding him, encouraging him, being proud of him, supporting him, loving him.
Life is as sensual as we make it. And sensuality encompasses passion, romance, and yes, sexuality. But it is more, it is a state of mind and being.
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| Sunday, April 18th, 2004
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2:13 am - What it takes to be a BABE... (Dedicated to Irina Chikounova) before it's gone
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from itskatya journal
Definitely, there are no boring or plain individuals among my friends; I guess I can consider myself lucky this way (I am not sure)… As time goes by, my social circle gets bigger and bigger; it exceeded the geographical borders and cultural differences a long time ago, and the circle of my friends stays about the same or gets smaller.
All the Eastern Block girls in tango, for the most part Russians ended up flocking together.
Being culturally defined as high driven, hard working and well educated, they strive for perfection in everything they do, at least the tango girls. Each one of them is an example of high achievements of all sorts and a colorful personality. None of them are alike, and everyone is a walking statement. Being bored with the guys in tango who are not progressing as fast, spoiled with the great amount of good followers, and in general are not the most exciting people, they find much more interest in hanging out and dancing with each other.
Irina is an established member of the “Tango Bitches From Hell” club.
Just like the rest of the “members” she wouldn’t dance with anyone but her Murat and maybe couple of more sometimes, she chooses her partners (not the other way around), walks over, blocks their oxygen, and wouldn’t let go till she’s done. She is abrupt, often rude, leaves no interpretation to her messages, despite on the broken English, and she follows like a fairy melting into the guy’s arms. Russians…
When you observe her, you’d come to all kinds of conclusions such as: the worst mannered, rude, insensitive, especially towards man’s ego, lightheaded and changing directions and plans like a weathercock, etc and so forth… You can continue a long list… But above all this, there’s no doubt left even after a short encounter, that she is a Babe, the most classical case of a Killer Queen. There’s a touch of art in everything she does and she is simply unable to be anything else but herself. After all her quirks, she always gets away with things just because “it’s Irina, what do you want?” … People just roll their eyes and let her be who she is… She brightens your day with her sparkly impressions, imaginary stories and hoxie ideas. Her unquestionable glamour is unique, stylish, funky and unintentional. Going out for a breakfast, wearing her loose funky pants and some old sweater, barefoot and sandals in the middle of the winter topped with the mink coat or some rustic looking jacket over an evening gown she turns heads surrounded by an aura of natural charm and her own unintentional and endearing style. I always saw her as a heroin of a good French melodrama: invariably feminine no matter what, finding art and her own meaning in every little thing and uncontrollable in her emotions. She is a cat-woman, and her bright green eyes only enhance the impression.
When she talks sometimes they get absolutely wild, taking half of her face and shining like flashlights. She lives and acts like a child: charming, spontaneous, extreme, quirky and always forgiven.
She would whine for days that she wants to work out her back muscles. I look at her fragile thin-boned structure and a narrow back and have my doubts.
Anyway, she shows up at the gym at the end of my sweat-dripping spin class, brushing through with her cat walk holding a bottle of water, a towel and Dostoevsky’s book (her idea of working out). She walks around and rubs against scary looking machines like a cat marking her territory, and when she’s done with the job she floats away terminating a nice friendly guy (striking like lightning) on the way out. When I get to the lockers room, she is lounging in the sauna with Dostoevsky for another hour, and then completely satisfied, moves on leaving her Dostoevsky on the wet floor in the showers. The most amazing part is that she looks much more refreshed and shiny than me after 2 hours of spinning, lifting and sweating…
You would get surprised how she goes through life with a total lack of survival skills, being an exotic flower in Adel’s green house, so refined in her needs and uncompromising in her demands, and all of a sudden you would see not a little flower that bloomed on the French soil, not a vamp tango dancer, but a rock solid Siberian girl, who would share her last scoop of cash in her wallet, push your luggage at the airport, take off her sweater and force it on you in case it’s cold in the airplane and make you tea when you are sick… So, I am not exactly sure which part brings us, Slavic American tango girls together. The mystery of a great Slavic soul remains enigma in it’s every revelation.
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| Saturday, April 17th, 2004
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8:20 pm - ad
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I am educated, and many women I date tend to pretend they know something about the world, but five minutes into the conversation I can tell they really know very little beyond shopping, their friends’ love lives, and various odds and ends of dreary popular culture. They make mistakes in speaking English, or they eat with the wrong fork. Even the ones from the “better families” drop hints like eggs in the springtime that they are profoundly unfinished items. In Washington, DC especially, the women are narrow, humorless, and uninteresting. Most have the personality of a dim-witted lab assistant, or a well-meaning but impossibly ignorant farm girl. I am sorry if you find that cruel but believe me, the guys know what I’m talking about. Even those whose interests extend beyond the petty provincialism of Tyson’s Corner and DKNY tend to be dominated by that pervasive, low form of female chemistry that has so hobbled their sex’s development over the eons - envy, snootiness, anxiety, cattiness, and bouts of pouting, peevishness, and possessiveness. Most women tend to have problems (I know the current word is “issues” but in reality, they ARE problems, and often deep-seated ones). As you can tell, I hold myself above most people, and while this may sound vain and impossibly arrogant, I do so because I can. I am simply too refined, educated, erudite (and, frankly, good-looking) for the vast majority of women out there. Yes, that is frustrating at times, but it beats being like so many men who are hanging (to borrow a phrase from the current lexicon) with a shrewish woman but bored to tears and ready to hang themselves. Someone to have and to hold, from this day forward, who understands that snobbery is a survival instinct, and a basis for evolution, and who believes that there is an Elite.
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| Sunday, April 11th, 2004
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9:44 am - You
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You are just like a little boy locked up in a mans body, who can't find the door to get out....
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| Wednesday, December 3rd, 2003
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4:08 pm - I am weightless
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глубоководное погружение
Что может сделать с человеком плохая погода? А плохое окружение? А плохой день?
Ответ:ничего. Человек сам определяет, в каком состоянии ему находиться, что считать плохим,что хорошим, и как на все реагировать.
Плавать или нырять?
Я ныряю. Стремительно уношусь на глубину, потому что привязала к ногам бетонную плиту. На поверхности остается субъективная реальность.По мере падения вниз мимо проносятся какие-то дурацкие,забытые и раскиданные по всему океану личной истории предметы. Я зыкрываю глаза - я не хочу ничего видеть, каждая вещь влечет за собой волну воспоминаний, когда приятных и и вызывающих ностальгию, когда грустных, когда чудовищных по своей жестокости. С бешенной скоростью я все опускаюсь, в ушах уже звенит, но время течет так медленно, что я уже перестаю ориентироваться в направлениях. Знаю только, что я внутри какой-то бездны, сожравшей меня заживо.
Но вдруг - дно, хотя я не ощущаю ни малейшего соприкоснования с ним. Потому что уже вообще ничего не ощущаю.
Я просачиваюсь сквозь ил и грунт, растекаюсь, смешиваюсь с морской водой, а когда достигаю пустоты, сливаюсь опять воедино, принимая вид сгустка слизи. И засыпаю.
Завтра вынырну. Иногда ведь так приятно побыть в "невесомости". Главное, поставить будильник на 9:00
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| Tuesday, October 28th, 2003
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6:14 pm
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| Monday, October 27th, 2003
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4:23 pm
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So here is my story: He first met me during the Cold War in St. Petersburg. We escaped the USSR together by stowing away on a Russian freighter, hidden in big boxes of freeze-dried borscht. After successfully making our way to New York City I was immediately spotted by a major motion pictures producer and starred in a remake of 'Diva'. The rest, of course is history -- I am currenntly one of the biggest talents in recent memory to take Hollywood (and Washington, DC) by storm.
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| Monday, October 13th, 2003
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7:12 pm - Роб Доуган
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Like a sentence of death, I got no options left, I've got nothing to show now. I'm down on the ground, I've got seconds to live, and you can't go now. 'Cause love, like invisible bullet shot me down and I'm bleeding, yeah I'm bleeding and if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me. They will bring you back to me. You're a dirty needle, you're in my blood and there's no curing me. I wanna run, like the blood from a wound to a place you can't see me. 'Cause love, like a blow to the head has left me stunned and I'm reeling, yeah I'm reeling and if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me. You're a cold piece of steel between my ribs and there's no saving me. And I can't get up, from this wet crimson bed that you made for me. That you made for me! 'Cause love like a knife in the back has cut me down and I'm bleeding, yeah I'm bleeding, and if you go, angels will run to defend me, to defend me. 'Cause I can't get up, I'm as cold as a stone, I can feel the life fade from me. I'm down on the ground, I've got second to live, and what's that waits for me, oh that waits for me! 'Cause like a sentence of death, left me stunned, and I'm reeling, yeah I'm reeling, and if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me (thx to Rob Dougan)
Как предложение смерти, я не получил никаких оставленных вариантов, я не имею ничего, чтобы показать теперь. Я надевал основание, я имею секунды, чтобы жить, и Вы не можете пойти теперь. 'Любовь причины, как невидимая пуля подстрелила меня, и я кровоточу, да я кровоточу и если Вы идете, разъяренные ангелы вернут Вас мне. Они вернут Вас мне. Вы - грязная игла, Вы находитесь в моей крови и нет никакого лечения меня. Я хочу бежать, как кровь от раны до места, Вы не можете видеть меня. 'Любовь причины, как удар к голове оставила меня ошеломленным, и я раскачиваюсь, да я раскачиваюсь и если Вы идете, разъяренные ангелы вернут Вас мне. Вы - холодная часть стали между моими ребрами и нет никакого спасения меня. И я не могу встать, от этой влажной темно-красной кровати, которую Вы сделали для меня. То, что Вы сделали для меня! 'Любовь причины как нож в задней части сократила меня, и я кровоточу, да я кровоточу, и если Вы идете, ангелы будут бежать, чтобы защитить меня, защитить меня. 'Причина, я не могу встать, я столь же холоден как камень, я могу чувствовать, что жизнь исчезает от меня.Я снижаюсь на основании, я имею секунду, чтобы жить, и что является, это ждет меня, о который ждет меня! 'Причина как предложение смерти, оставила меня ошеломленным, и я раскачиваюсь, да я раскачиваюсь, и если Вы идете, разъяренные ангелы вернут Вас мне (ткс Робу Доугану)
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| Saturday, August 16th, 2003
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4:37 pm - Bad spy
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Why am I getting upset when being caught lying not that I am a bad peron or did something wrong, but just how bad spy I am? :)))
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| Thursday, August 14th, 2003
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12:42 pm - Lets see what she wrote about...
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What it takes to be a BABE... (Dedicated to me)Definitely, there are no boring or plain individuals among my friends; I guess I can consider myself lucky this way (I am not sure)… As time goes by, my social circle gets bigger and bigger; it exceeded the geographical borders and cultural differences a long time ago, and the circle of my friends stays about the same or gets smaller.
All the Eastern Block girls in tango, for the most part Russians ended up flocking together.
Being culturally defined as high driven, hard working and well educated, they strive for perfection in everything they do, at least the tango girls. Each one of them is an example of high achievements of all sorts and a colorful personality. None of them are alike, and everyone is a walking statement. Being bored with the guys in tango who are not progressing as fast, spoiled with the great amount of good followers, and in general are not the most exciting people, they find much more interest in hanging out and dancing with each other.
Irina is an established member of the “Tango Bitches From Hell” club.
Just like the rest of the “members” she wouldn’t dance with anyone but her Murat and maybe couple of more sometimes, she chooses her partners (not the other way around), walks over, blocks their oxygen, and wouldn’t let go till she’s done. She is abrupt, often rude, leaves no interpretation to her messages, despite on the broken English, and she follows like a fairy melting into the guy’s arms. Russians…
When you observe her, you’d come to all kinds of conclusions such as: the worst mannered, rude, insensitive, especially towards man’s ego, lightheaded and changing directions and plans like a weathercock, etc and so forth… You can continue a long list… But above all this, there’s no doubt left even after a short encounter, that she is a Babe, the most classical case of a Killer Queen. There’s a touch of art in everything she does and she is simply unable to be anything else but herself. After all her quirks, she always gets away with things just because “it’s Irina, what do you want?” … People just roll their eyes and let her be who she is… She brightens your day with her sparkly impressions, imaginary stories and hoxie ideas. Her unquestionable glamour is unique, stylish, funky and unintentional. Going out for a breakfast, wearing her loose funky pants and some old sweater, barefoot and sandals in the middle of the winter topped with the mink coat or some rustic looking jacket over an evening gown she turns heads surrounded by an aura of natural charm and her own unintentional and endearing style. I always saw her as a heroin of a good French melodrama: invariably feminine no matter what, finding art and her own meaning in every little thing and uncontrollable in her emotions. She is a cat-woman, and her bright green eyes only enhance the impression.
When she talks sometimes they get absolutely wild, taking half of her face and shining like flashlights. She lives and acts like a child: charming, spontaneous, extreme, quirky and always forgiven.
She would whine for days that she wants to work out her back muscles. I look at her fragile thin-boned structure and a narrow back and have my doubts.
Anyway, she shows up at the gym at the end of my sweat-dripping spin class, brushing through with her cat walk holding a bottle of water, a towel and Dostoevsky’s book (her idea of working out). She walks around and rubs against scary looking machines like a cat marking her territory, and when she’s done with the job she floats away terminating a nice friendly guy (striking like lightning) on the way out. When I get to the lockers room, she is lounging in the sauna with Dostoevsky for another hour, and then completely satisfied, moves on leaving her Dostoevsky on the wet floor in the showers. The most amazing part is that she looks much more refreshed and shiny than me after 2 hours of spinning, lifting and sweating…
You would get surprised how she goes through life with a total lack of survival skills, being an exotic flower in Adel’s green house, so refined in her needs and uncompromising in her demands, and all of a sudden you would see not a little flower that bloomed on the French soil, not a vamp tango dancer, but a rock solid Siberian girl, who would share her last scoop of cash in her wallet, push your luggage at the airport, take off her sweater and force it on you in case it’s cold in the airplane and make you tea when you are sick… So, I am not exactly sure which part brings us, Slavic American tango girls together. The mystery of a great Slavic soul remains enigma in it’s every revelation.
current mood:  cold
current music: Teofilo Chantre/Roda Tempo/Roda Vida
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11:01 am - DVD presentation
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10:55 am - difficult situation
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hmmmm. I would tell her that you need to...uh...."develop the relationship" a bit....
or, either that, or that you are a starving student and can't really afford to do anything but barter ( and then send her tango videos or something).
(This is kind of odd for me because I was just online last night looking for a translation of Rilke (originally in german or french, depending...) into both english and russian...I finally gave up and zzzzzz'ed about 3:30am....) Maybe I can give your person in *.ru some translation work, and you can give her some work, and she can feel like she is having a complete relationship?
You know what I think -- I think you have everything you need already. so..........if I were the lucky person to be receiving your letters, I'd rather they be your thoughts anyways.....
Why are you translating into English? You should do that with the person you are interested in anyway. Maybe they want to learn Russian?
Oh, the meeting. I got there *just barely* in time.( I was really happy, too, thanks to a miracle occuring just an hour before leaving for the meeting :-)) It went great. I am supposed to come up with some amazing idea in the next six weeks that'll create a new business and make everyone happy. At least, that's what they kept telling me. Sheesh!
I was a technical guy in a room full of "movers and shakers" (rich, connected business types). Basically, I am supposed to be the boy genius who marries two technologies and then lives happily ever after. (Live lived as a metaphor, but never literally...*sigh*...)
Are you really going to NY? I guess if it were sunday, I could take you up...I am pinned in the DC area otherwise....
How was petting your non-existent cat, eating, writing, translating, et cetera?
current mood:  awake
current music: Simone Pura Seda/Fuga #1
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8:00 am - Interesting
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I am currently married and am looking for a
mistress. To start with, not all
relationships are traditional, so yes my
wife knows. I have been VERY successful in
business so I want to find someone who I can
spoil … shopping trips, gifts, travel, help
with bills/rent etc. Spoil me with you
attention and affection and I will spoil you.
To tell you more I have many passions in
life… scuba diving, downhill skiing, hiking,
biking, roller blading, the performing arts (
the Orchestra and Theater), boating, fine
dining with a great bottle of wine, sunsets
on the beach in the Caribbean, world travel
and much more.
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tangerchik's journal
