I just got back from school. I just walked into my room. I just finished talking to some of the girls from Harvard who just got back from Moscow who were going to the mall to see a movie (The Proposal). They all looked very pleasant. And they said they really enjoyed Moscow. They're here for another week.
Before that. I was met by a Russian about my age. He came up to me and addressed me as Jimmy. He spoke no English and I was perplexed at how he might know who I am. Maybe he's friends with one of the many Russians I've taken a picture with. Maybe he knows Sif. Maybe he was mistaking me for another 6'5 (192cm) Jimmy. But he was not. He knew exactly who I was.
I asked him (in Russian) how he knew me and he said from Club Bubbles. You don't know the story of my triumphs there this past Saturday but you will when I get back from running some errands. He shook my hand and called his friend and told him that he was standing right next to me. I couldn't make the rest of the conversation out but he had to go. He shook my hand again and bounced.
Today is a beautiful sunshiny day. I did quite well in class and now I'm about to run to Nevsky Prospect and try and get my Ray Bans repaired. Following that I will return here and depending on how I'm feeling complete the Novgorod post/this past Saturday night or work on some of my new research I've been compiling.
I am not a blogger by any means. I am a writer. I am a narrator. I just happen to know how to use a blog as an effective way to communicate with all 2 people that read this.