I wonder what the Russians call Orion.
It snowed for a while this afternoon, just to emphasize that although it was 55 or so yesterday, tonight is going to be cold as demmit. I kept looking over at the window while reading about popular political action in Europe (1500-1700); among other things, for the last week my back has been twinging, so I shift around a lot these days. Anyway, the snow closest to the window would blow sideways and appear to fall slower and other tricks of wind and perspective, but in the middle distance it was falling in determined Christmas-movie style. By that, I mean I could almost hear the "ching-chink-ching" noise - a cross between jingle bells and a salt-shaker - that movie snow makes. But really the first layer of snow falls wetly, and then once you hit bleak-Midwinter snow-on-snow, silently. It amazes me that memories of movies can override my own perception.
I went to campus today to watch the first of the quarter's Slavic films, mostly because I checked the schedule and it was Бриллиатовая Рука (The Diamond Arm, except I didn't look up the spelling so that's probably wrong [I looked it up, and it was, so I fixed it]), which is one of the few Russian comedies I've seen that's funny because it's funny, and not just because of the juxtaposition with grinding Communist reality (hello Цирк). While suiting up I discovered I was short a glove, and immediately I knew I'd lost it yesterday, when I walked all the way to campus before someone pointed out to me that my bookbag was open (both big pockets, because I am dumb). At the time, I was so glad not to have dropped Yohanan's book into a mud puddle that I didn't think to take full inventory, and of course it was fifty-five degrees, so the loss was not immediately apparent. I scanned the ground while walking over tonight, and found one disgusting wet glove that was not mine... Coming back, though, I spotted another, which upon close observation was mine! It remained only to pry it off the sidewalk, to which it was frozen.
In conclusion, mad props to Virginia for ensuring that even when hunting for a lost bright green glove, I still have a complete pair of bright green gloves for my digital pleasure, albeit a pair far more reminiscent of Muppet hide. And at the movie tonight I saw a second kid from my Russian class, who also informed me that the class only has about five students this quarter, and that I should come. Those poor lonely bastards. And finally, Orion was out nice and bright (relatively; "night" is relative here) when I got back, so if the sky is clear tomorrow, perhaps I'll go to the observatory for some M42 action.
I went to campus today to watch the first of the quarter's Slavic films, mostly because I checked the schedule and it was Бриллиатовая Рука (The Diamond Arm, except I didn't look up the spelling so that's probably wrong [I looked it up, and it was, so I fixed it]), which is one of the few Russian comedies I've seen that's funny because it's funny, and not just because of the juxtaposition with grinding Communist reality (hello Цирк). While suiting up I discovered I was short a glove, and immediately I knew I'd lost it yesterday, when I walked all the way to campus before someone pointed out to me that my bookbag was open (both big pockets, because I am dumb). At the time, I was so glad not to have dropped Yohanan's book into a mud puddle that I didn't think to take full inventory, and of course it was fifty-five degrees, so the loss was not immediately apparent. I scanned the ground while walking over tonight, and found one disgusting wet glove that was not mine... Coming back, though, I spotted another, which upon close observation was mine! It remained only to pry it off the sidewalk, to which it was frozen.
In conclusion, mad props to Virginia for ensuring that even when hunting for a lost bright green glove, I still have a complete pair of bright green gloves for my digital pleasure, albeit a pair far more reminiscent of Muppet hide. And at the movie tonight I saw a second kid from my Russian class, who also informed me that the class only has about five students this quarter, and that I should come. Those poor lonely bastards. And finally, Orion was out nice and bright (relatively; "night" is relative here) when I got back, so if the sky is clear tomorrow, perhaps I'll go to the observatory for some M42 action.