Today marks the day when I part with my fourth boss. JJ will always have a special place in my heart as the great number 4 – a digit full of value and evenness. My first boss will go into history as the smelly Russian, my second as the wisest boss ever, my third as the nicest. JJ will go into history as the crazy-dancing-Rican boss. “Take you by surprise with my mad coffee energy” boss. “Don’t talk to me you are too hung over” boss. “Don’t mess with her whiskey ginger” boss. “Smell my armpit” boss. And of course, “please sent a package to Mr. S-o S-w-e-e-z-le, I think he is Asian” boss.
“Living with AIDS has become easier but it is still not a stroll through a bed of roses.” Neither is my job when it’s full of quotes like this. I thought a description of a company event “bringing smashing success” was bad enough, but even that paled in comparison with the roses. I mean I understand the whole English-is-not-my-first-language thing. I often fall conscious prey to the instinct of direct translating my mother tongue and using American expressions I hardly know myself. And trust me - I don’t want to “put the ball in the wrong court.” And I would hate to “leave you hanging out.” But seriously can we, so to say, “cut the craps”? Because, as we say in Russian, my patience is not made of rubber.
The fabulous Myer Lemon and I recently spent an evening at the symphony. What fun. Lincoln Center overall is extremely confusing. There are the remote opera houses, the two movie theatres, Juilliard, and a range of random buildings standing about without purpose and thus presenting plenty of opportunity for getting lost and missing your show. And all the buildings, I feel, are equally nondescript. I’ve been to many of them several times and have a hard time recalling where they are and how they look on the inside. I guess, I am a poor theatergoer and culture event seeker. But Myer Lemon has faith in me; that’s why she called me the night before the show in panic and sought my company.
Captured in the shot is my co-worker Celina – an ex-Californian who, with a friend, patrolled the doors of the store since 7am. Around 9am, the effort earned her a privilege of being the first customer in the new TJ’s. What is questionable is whether her wait to get the precious groceries was the longest one that day. Because I have one word for the new Trader Joe’s – zoolicious!
UPDATE 3/20: TJ’s was all out of mangoes, but I did make my first purchase of um… bread, non-farmed canned salmon, corn soup, dried cranberries, dried bananas, black lentils, white tea, nondescript cereal, and Vitamin water. Also, by the registers, I fell for the impulse buying trap and grabbed a fancy looking dark chocolate bar for Don and some fruit snacks. All for around $20 – not bad! Shocking, though, was the new strategy implemented by TJ’s. Read more…
Last Sunday my dad and I were talking about movies. I was telling dad to go see Cache, suggested by Don. Dad was complaining that nothing good ever plays in Virginia.
Dad: All we have here is that hills movie (hint: in Russian hill and mountain is the same word, unless you are being specific)
Me: (thinking it’s the Hills Have Eyes) oh no, dad, don’t go see that - it looks horrifying
Dad: horrifying? I thought it was just about two gay men?
Me: oh, that movie
Dad: yeah, I was talking about the… pause to contemplate the English word… Hunchback Mountain!
Nice work dad! By the way Brokeback was translated into Russian as Crooked Mountain… hmmm….
Yes, the middle-aged ladies, wearing garments that quite possibly have been borrowed off the set of Scheherazade, are indeed there to “hook up.” The band is really playing live music on two balalaikas, and the vodka is truly infused on premises. Why? Because Russians don’t mess around!
I really love it when people blast music out of their car stereo on a sunny, warm day. Especially when that music is a …cheesy Russian pop tune! Read more…
Sometimes, hanging around Broadway and Houston, I get a feeling that no reason has ever existed for replacing an old taxicab wash-stop with an Adidas store. For drowning sorrows of New York’s fledging landmarks, there is and attraction, of sorts, just east of Lafayette on Houston. Read more…