December 11th, 2003



Following recent comments by certain close friends, I'd like to make it clear to all concerned that a night spent drinking with Sarmoung is not necessarily a life-threatening experience. My intention were entirely life-affirming, although I regret that my methods induced such pronounced physical reactions. I'm hoping that the Christmas invitation still stands...

I'm still in the thick of history (now Russian messianism) for the foreseeable week ahead and provided I retain a semblance of sanity will return to frequent posting once I've got Gogol firmly nailed to the speciment table I keep constantly by my bedside.


Of course, it's not the Russian Soul 24/7 here, despite what ex-lovers may claim. Sure, sometimes all you can find in the fridge is pickled cucumbers, harissa paste and frozen vodka. But that's a meal, along as there's some kimmel crackers lounging somewhere. Unfortunately, the stocks of boil-in-the-bag Japanese curry sauces are now down to one. It's the 和風 (wafu) or Japanese style one. So instead of being good old Japanese curry sauce, it's Japanese Japanese curry sauce. This means that it tastes Japanese rather than Japanese (unfortunately the previous use of Unicode knocks the italic function out of order for emphasis). Well, if this is making any sense at all, this overplays the Japanese hand, or is that Japanese Japanese hand? Whatever... I like my Japanese curry sauce traditional, that is, not trying to taste like a traditional Japanese dish. Clear?

In the few spare minutes of the day not spent pounding the floor and incanting Russian, I have been turning to my friendly Game Boy Advance. The domestic... and then my mum phones. She's just trapped her hand in a bus door and have to deliver some ice. Oh dear.