July 24, 2011
I seems to be writing often from the airport, but here I am again. Moscow, Sheremetyvo terminal D, Blues&Jazz lounge... A bit more than a week ago I was sitting at the exact same chair waiting for a flight to Berlin. Different state of mind for too many reasons to list.
I am so ready to be away from Moscow right now. I need to recharge. I need change. Not only change of scenery, I need to think about bigger changes. Change is the only constant in life. That, and death. But why are we so afraid of them both?:)
I started writing again. Nothing big yet, but I downloaded the draft files of the book I wrote in Portland and am mentally ready to read it and evaluate what am I going to do with it. I also signed up for that marathon. Enough procrastination, let's have it done. It's going to be Berlin, Sept 25. In fact I am ready to run now, but all the August marathons are too far from the places I am going to visit. I was thinking of going to Oslo which is at the exact same date, but it's smaller. Besides you never know what psycho is hiding in the forest. I was shocked about the events there... I saw it on the TV at the gym yesterday and kind of made me want to puke. What can possibly happen to you that you go at a youth camp and start shooting at scared like bunnies, little kids. Since being a mother, violence against children drives me nuts.
July 30, 2011..continue from Biarritz. Or actually somewhere above Belgium. I am in the plane. A bit hungover from too much champaign. Champaign should impress, people think. I wasn’t that impressed. In fact I don’t like champaign.
Biarritz will be listed as one of my favorite vacation spots. Last night my friend and I had a very interesting conversation with two French ladies in their sixties. They were of course all stylish and gracefully aged. I love how French women do it, aging. There is a lot of dignity in it. But so we were discussing Biarritz, men, rugby, and the Russian "parvenues" at Cote d'Azur. It was enchanting. I love France. I love the scenery, the people, the food, how the language sound, the culture. I love feeling in Europe again. I am now slowly moving my mind into direction the Netherlands, both physically and emotionally...
Aug 7, 2011 ...in Nice, on the way to Cannes. What is it with the French? I am under a spell. What is not to love here? Ok, except that it's jammed with tourist, the dog shit and the seedy parts of town. Every paradise has some down sides. But seriously, France is something. I guess it's also the whole way of doing it. Driving with the top down, having the option to stay anywhere, do anything, the feeling of freedom which I am nearly addicted to.
I am happy to have imported that car from the U.S. It's an oldy, but a goodie. Didn't pay too much for it, but the amount of joy it gives is only multiplying with time. When I was 14, I was reading Rich men, Poor men one long boring summer in my grand-mother's place in a small Bulgarian town where nothing ever happens, so people get married at twenty to create some tolerable eventfulness. I remember dreaming of racing top down at the French Riviera, tanned, beautiful, rich and free. And it all came true this week, only I am not rich, and freedom is a bit of an illusion. But it's so wonderful when dreams come true.