Social life in Moscow

Quick update on the social events of Moscow. Saturday evening we had tickets to the show of one of the designers at Russian Fashion Week. Basically, a scene filled with impossibly skinny and tall girls flitting about. We availed ourselves of a free bar that spontaneously appeared near where we sat and waited for our show to begin. Cocktails with vodka, chamord and a slice of lime in plastic glasses shaped like an ice cream cone. You couldn't set them down, had to chug. Afterwards, the after party at a very nice restaurant where all the men were gay and the women still tall and skinny. The food consisted of glasses of chopped celery and cucumber with interesting spices. OK, I lie, they also gave us spoons with risotto and some kebabs. I saw a very skinny girl sneaking someone's discarded risotto spoon -- the personal shame.
Yesterday, pedicures. More on that in another post. Then on to Sunday lunch at an Australian diplomats place. As we return from pedicures, Liz breaks the news that it is "fancy dress". The horror. We dig out two Hawaiian dresses she has recently been gifted from a Korean-American friend's parents factory(...). Those with flip flops, a lei from the children's toy box and a birdcage salvaged from outside the fashion show hotel last night (the models in some show must have worn them as hats), we felt ready for anything. Of course we arrived to discover that no one else had taken the invitation seriously and were glad we had brought something to change into...

higgledy piggledy

Went to a charming place for lunch - again one of the big changes in Russia, that there are charming spots for a quick lunch. But our waitress was pure Soviet style. She didn't crack a smile and brought everything in random order. First we got our bruschetta, then came our drinks when those were almost done, finally the soup. Everything was delicious. Today it turns out is a work day. November 4th is the big holiday and since it falls on Tuesday and they want to give a long weekend they made Saturday a workday this week and people have Monday off.

Moscow bound

First blog about the trip to Russia and this is all about stuff prior to even hitting Russian soil. How do you know your flight is Moscow bound? Oh, maybe it could be the numerous carts of duty free groaning under the weight of bags and bags of alcohol being wheeled to the boarding gate. I mean, usually, there is some employee standing there with a few forlorn items, but this was like a Turkish bazaar (if I had ever seen a Turkish bazaar). Second item that differentiates your Moscow boarding lounge at JFK, from say, the one where the flight is going to Venice or Athens… the hulking great immigration officers with their deportees (similarly hulking, but much shorter). Then I get in line and I am at the end of the line and a Russian couple cuts in front of me!!! I mean how much did they gain? I was at the end of the line. Actually, I think they had no idea they had done it so ingrained is the need to cut in line. I am sitting next to a Russian woman who has been reading the duty free catalog for several hours now. I am not kidding. I guess she missed out on the free for all prior to boarding. Annoyingly I cannot fall asleep. I slept like a log from Salt Lake to JFK and now, wide awake.

would the super mom please stand up

I spent the weekend sewing a bunny suit for Sam. Yes, my 12 year old boy wants to be a 12 year old sized bunny rabbit for Halloween. The suit is white fleece with mittens, spats, and a hood with floppy ears. He intends to wear the suit part as pajamas after the big day. Catherine asked him if he was planning to cut off the bobbly tail and he said, no.

blog readers rejoice!

I am finally in the mood to do a little catching up. I know that I have been woefully derelict. First, I have to tell you about the most vivid dream that I had two nights ago. One thing that we face as academic administrators is our faculty's surprising inability to read their email, or if they do read it, to process what it actually says, rather than what they fear or believe it says. Seriously, in a department of people whose raison d'etre is language and texts, the degree of misreading and misinterpretation is strikingly odd. In the dream, my co-chair and I have decided that the only remedy for this problem is to hire a departmental town crier. The dream focuses on our discussion of what uniform this person should wear; the fact of his or her essentialness to departmental functioning is unquestioned. I can picture it now: "Hear yea, hear yea. Departmental meeting scheduled for first Thursday in November will now he held on the second Thursday in November..."
Of course, my Russian colleague pointed out the fatal flaw in my nocturnal delusion -- it presupposes that the faculty are in their offices to hear the town crier.
Second update. Monday I weathered an event that drew on all my social skills. Quite exhausting. Back up three weeks and I am at my desk when my phone rings. It is the secretary of muckety muck administrator who "wants to schedule a drink with you." Strange, but OK. We confer on dates and some mention is made of notification on final date once my Dean has also been invited and agrees to a date. Receive email with confirmation of the drink which is to take place at an off-campus restaurant at 5pm. I wonder vaguely why and what this about. Perhaps it is a crowd of people, but I sense not from the secretary's communications. So, I head over, arrive first and duck into the loo. I emerge and can see that someone is seated out of direct view on the patio so I go outside and see my Dean. He looks at me and says "Jane, what are you doing here?" I reply that I am having a drink with muckety muck. He says "I'm having a drink with muckety muck. I didn't know you were joining us." With perfect timing, Muckety Muck appears, looks at me and says, "Who are you?" Awkward. Some recapping of the history lets us determine that the secretary (who MM tells us is legendarily inept) probably thought I was the Dean's secretary (she is also called Jane). This does not explain why she called my direct line and phrased her request as "MM wants to schedule a drink with you." I, of course, wanted to bolt, but was entreated to join them for a drink which I polished off hastily so that I could then retreat...hastily.

Mexico

party like it isn't a budget free fall

It feels very decadent (but how appropriate in these times of cataclysmic decline) to be heading off to a week's beach holiday after a meeting today where the co-chairs decided that we have no choice but to cut back course offerings and with that auxiliary faculty. In order that our regular faculty aren't allowed to feel untouched, we have also nixed our travel budget, computer upgrades and a few more things that the will hurt. It was depressing to get feedback after our faculty meeting on Tuesday to discuss strategy that, first of all, came only from the full professors and, secondly, consisted entirely of how to make cuts that in essence wouldn't touch them. A year plus into this job I am still astounded at how people really are either supremely self-interested or they aren't.
So, off to Riviera Maya for a week of sun and swimming and reading books. I have made the rather drastic decision not to take my laptop. There is a computer kiosk at the resort, but i shall try to avoid checking in.