March 21st, 2007

golden skans

I'm moving to Ukraine.

Unless I'm completely oblivious (which is possible and, I dare say, likely), a Flirtation is Occurring. In eight languages. With one person. A view of my future sex life (not necessarily with this person): "Plus fort, más rápido! ECCELLENTE! Большое спасибо, mein lieben!" You think I'm joking? Hah.

I'm pretty sure that I'm coming down with something; I'm very warm, I'm exhausted, my nose is beginning to get stuffed up, and my throat kind of hurts. What great timing, huh? I went to a lecture this evening on some Russian-related event and thought I was going to pass out for a while there. It wasn't fun.

I volunteered to make Georgian Spice Bread for the Russian Dinner next month. I've never made bread before. This is going to be a disaster.


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