ice

I am right now that (hopefully) forgivable blogger cliche, the writer who pledges to write and disappears from the web. I haven’t written in two months. You haven’t met my Minnesota friends. You haven’t experienced the coming winter. You didn’t come with me to get lost in that small town corn maze or stare wide-eyed with my sister and I at the crazy screamers throwing rice into the air at the midnight showing of Rocky Horror. You missed a lot. I’m sorry. I take walks often around the lake by my building. I don’t remember ever seeing a lake frozen…

i’m still here in all of the winter goodness

I was supposed to be laid up with knee holes right now, but I’m still here because PC HQ pushed back my surgery.  This makes me lucky in some ways.  For instance, the winter’s biggest snow fell on the day I was scheduled to travel to the capital.  Not only did I not have to brave the feet-deep-buried roads, but I got to see my town covered in a thick layer of snow.  There is nothing like the feeling of waking up on a sunny morning to pillows of glittering snow trying to peek into your windows.  I’ve said it…

cold

This will not be the happiest of updates.  Last night, still sick, I actually stabbed my journal while writing because I couldn’t get all my angst to quietly come out on the page.  Then I scribbled a big “F—!” on the bottom of the page and called it a night. I’m sick.  I’m worried.  I’m cold.  And I’m emotional.  Oy.  But let’s just take stock of what’s going on today: I can be positive, see: The snow is dancing in flurries.  Huge white snow bits are swirling outside the glass and laying themselves down on the ground, quiet and unassuming. …

another new year in armenia

On the last night of 2009 I was sitting with my best Peace Corps friend, Zoë, talking late into the evening about New Year’s resolutions.  We almost missed the New Year, and with moments to spare we ran outside with pots and pans to ring in the new year with a metallic clamor. This year I was invited by my friend and co-worker, Gayane, to spend the evening of the 31st with her family.  When I called to confirm the plans, I found out that they had already prepared a room for me to sleep in after we had toasted…

a summer blip in winter: the landsisters

Word has traveled from Moscow to our sleepy town via emigrated relatives of my Armenian friends: THE BIG FREEZE IS COMING.  Apparently, when Moscow freezes over, the same icy hand reaches out to our town in about three days. This comes to me as a bit of a surprise.  You know what I was doing a couple of days ago? I was with my landdad, moving the nardi board into the house because the sun was beating down too hard.  (I was wearing a t-shirt.) And then I was hanging out with my landsisters on the terrace.  Meri and I…