Dennis Port: Guide de voyage, prix et hébergement gratuit · 2026

UUSAblogi · 2 oct. 2009Lire

[Retrospective of pre-trip fuss from my main blog http://hiatemyself.blogspot.com/] 19.02.09 Satan on the line I was going to sleep when suddenly, Satan called. His name is Peter. He lives on Cape Cod, Massachusetts, USA. He asked about my father's job and if I had watched the Bourne trilogy. I hadn't. But he hadn't watched Brazil. He also asked if I knew how to fix bikes and a bunch of other nonsense. ...he likes the pronunciation of the word dol_bo_yob dol_bo_yob_ka... I barely understood what was happening. Maybe his grandmother was Russian. In Poland. A Russian Pole. Or something else... that's him for you. An American Satan. -SH_SH=O_O=K_K- 04.03.09 [>] Do You Need a Job? DO UUU NEED A JOOOB!!!??? [current music >>> Phoenix Bodies - Get a Job] So Marina chatted with Satan too. Hail Satan. It seems he's taking us! For now, a bunch of nuances are still unclear. They'll be cleared up when the filled-out paper is sent back. Ugh... green pies and Grandma Nadya, amen. 09.03.09 we've got the fucking job That's it. The hellish epic of job hunting is over. Contracts are in hand. We are going to Dennis Port, MA. A little motel a hundred meters from the ocean - WOO-HOO! cowabunga... ...and tons of bed linen and other #@$%!. We are housekeepers, damn them x_X 20.04.09 NOtes fROm mosCOW # 2_embassy My relatives were dying of laughter at me when I said I needed to be at the embassy by 6 AM, like it was some kind of scam, everyone is sleeping, the metro won't come for you and all that. By the way, before that, I went for a jog at 5:10 (to Changes, which I went to see that same evening, haha), since the buses weren't running yet. Another figure ran towards me out of the darkness, also in a hood. A bit confusing/scary. I got upset and walked. Anyway, after 15-20 minutes I was riding the first metro train. I waited for Marina at the station, and we went to freeze by the Chaliapin monument. We were incredibly lucky to be in the first 30. We froze for probably an hour. And they kept lining up a live queue of less lucky poor souls... they started letting us inside (after 8:30, I think), and it started raining... poor students. It's not gloomy/scary in the embassy at all, as some claim. It's very modern. Lots of red, prints/paintings on the walls, again some kind of 'contemporary art' that's cute for no reason. They took our fingerprints with a scanner. And that's it. 3 windows to the consuls. An Azerbaijani guy was standing in front of me, explaining for a long time that he would be working as a sales assistant for phone accessories. Maybe not for long, but my time deformed SO much in both directions, stealing my breath and voice along with it. In short, fear and horror seized me at the last moment, although I had been almost calm before that. Someone inside me answered the consul, apparently an autopilot, thankfully the questions were ordinary: place of study, where/who are you going to work as. I walked out - it let go instantly, I felt very good. Marina was released right after. They asked her about 'random stuff' - how long it takes to get from Ulyanovsk to Moscow and what she had for breakfast. Anyway, we got our visas. Yeah, baby. Just over a month left... http://hiatemyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/blog-post_19.html http://hiatemyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/do-you-need-job-do-uuu-need-jooob.html http://hiatemyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post_09.html http://hiatemyself.blogspot.com/2009/04/notes-from-moscow-2.html