oh, the glamour

Let's dispel any lingering illusion of glamour that may be hiding in the corners of this blog.

The big news around here is...the pink grocery store, used-to-be-Parnas, has now had, consistently, Green Giant green beans AND peas AND corn. Ho, ho, ho. That's big. That used to be at least two different stores, about an hour apart.

They do not, however, stock our milk.

Stockmann's opened and they might have Campbell's tomato soup. There are days when $8 for a can of soup seems entirely reasonable. Campbell's soup has started showing up in bags on store shelves...but only weird flavours. Stockmann's, at least until proven otherwise, is the the hope fluttering in many an ex-pat's heart. They have vanilla, too. Probably.

I have a battle waging with my third toe on my left foot. It's testing me to see how short I'll cut the nail to avoid it in-growing.

It's raining. Still. And the puddles are all the color of pollution. And so are the hems of our pants, our boots, the car windows and any nasal discharge (either our own--sneakily peeked at in a tissue to see if a sinus infection is lurking--or others' discharged onto the street). Yes. Disgusting Glamorous.

The other morning someone parked so close to me and at such an angle that it took five minutes, easily, to unpark. Which made me late. And not best pleased.

Today I went to do a voiceover for a film. I was practically giddy over the opportunity to ACT --even for a couple of lines. I'd talked a friend into coming too, because they needed two American women and a little American girl. Turns out, they really only needed one woman. The second (me, because her daughter was dubbing, too, and so they went in together first) was just in case the first bombed. They didn't tell me that part. She didn't bomb. I uttered nary a word...in English. I uttered a few disgruntled ones in Russian.

My parmesan cheese molded and had to be thrown out. Cheese is ridiculously expensive here.

My cat is now so overweight that she cannot properly wash herself and needs baby-wiping and bathing of her back end. (Nope. Not overfed. I suspect depressed and bullied.)

Let's not even talk about my weight.

I don't think I have enough otc prescription-strength deodorant to last through the year and combat the toxic sweat. Go ahead and blog-search that one. It's been blogged about for a looooong time.

The cashier at the pie restaurant downstairs tried to cheat me out of 200 r. The charge was 280, I gave her 500, she asked for 30, I gave it to her, she gave me 50. And started helping the next customer. I picked up the receipt, showed her it and loudly told her she only gave me 50 r. She just looked sullen. I got the hostile "you're an American" look because I didn't let her pocket my 200r. I am so sick of cashiers doing this! The last time it was at a BANK. I do know how to count, thank you very much. Give me my correct change.

I can never spell restaurant without thinking. And second guessing. And spell checking.

Light bulbs last about four days. (This time frame might be slightly exaggerated.) And they're too tall for me to reach, even on our ladder. So the landlord has to send someone with a tall ladder to do it. But, they don't come every four days. So...it's a little dark.

It's a little dark. The sun comes up after we're in school and goes down shortly after we get home. And it's still November.

The drains in our bathroom often are odorous. It is not my fault. Neither is anything effective in eliminating this problem.

I gave away so many clothes last spring that now I've got SERIOUS wardrobe problems. Serious. And France was way too expensive for me to shop.

The drunks at the produkti below us are shouting at each other outside my window.

And that's just the beginning of the glamour. ;>