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How uncomfortable can it get....?

Yesterday I had a perfect chance to realize how different I am now from what I was back in 2008 and earlier. Why do people change? Why values do? I haven’t got a chance to acknowledge it before recently. My pet-snake made me realize it, a boa-constrictor that at some point I thought I’d take out so he will get some fresh air and some sun, and get used to being picked up and seeing some of homo sapiens apart from me. It was then that I became hesitant of doing it, for some reason unnaturally I felt shy going out with the snake on my neck\hands… a feeling I did not have ever before. I felt I didn’t want to draw any attention and get people gathering around me exclaiming, asking questions, taking pictures, asking to pet it and getting overall excited as if they’ve never seen a snake before. I used to get a chance to feel what a celebrity feels and rather enjoy attention but yesterday I no longer wanted it. I felt I would look crazy, weird, and awkward; you name it… at least out of place hanging outside with a snake. Moreover, when I did finally decide to take him out, I chose to keep away from the bunch of dog owners who would be chanting about their gods (oops, I meant DOGs) forever as if nothing but their dogs, some sort of substitution for children, excised. Having gotten as farther away as I could from the crazy canine lovers, I ended up hiding him every time a person would pass by and so far I had failed to understand why I wouldn’t have been bothered by the attention, be rather pleased with it back then and now I tried my hardest to avoid it. I still feel it’s very weird of me to take my snake out there but at the time when I had my first boa I enjoyed being seen with it and be asked questions. I would feel proud to have something most of people don’t have or wouldn’t dare think of having. I felt as exotic as my pet was.
Hard as I tried to avoid people who were fortunate enough to be outside same time with my snake and I, to my hugest surprise, an old lady who is a very nosey neighbor of ours had spotted me from all the way across the yard. I had noticed how she kept looking on and on from the distance, but under no circumstances could I have foreseen she would actually make out a snake ( that is not yet so big) being in my hands. Before I had a chance to get jealous about her vision, she started approaching and soon I could hear her asking what I had got there. Caught almost off guard, I thought of quickly hiding the reptile suspecting it being the last thing she wanted to know that I owned and that she lived next door to. While figuring out what I was going to tell her, what reason I could possible come up with to escape, she was right before me, her face full of excitement, as she looked over to my boa. “What is this cute thing? Is that a snake there” she asked. I’ve always thought she was a bit of a snake herself so it was only natural of me to assume she woт’t be happy meeting one of her own kind so, I was ready to face all the fuss she would make about it and inform everyone she could possibly find about the huge danger everyone in neighborhood was. Nonetheless I hoped for a better outcome. And there it was. While being a disgusting, very old, conflictive and quite mean neighbor with even more disguising puddle barking at everyone and trying to get a taste of everyone’s ankles, she turned out to actually like reptiles. And then the least favorite part of being seen with a snake happened…the endless stream of questions she or any other person would ask. To make matters worse, she started gathering people in a group that soon surrounded me asking the very same question over and over again. The top 7 questions are:
1) What kind of snake is it? (It’s a boa!) 2) What does he eat? (Mice and rats) 3) How often does he feed? (Once a week, although he will go on without food for more than a month and nothing will happen to it) 4) Where do I get mice? (Go to the apartment building’s basement to chase mice every morning and hunting for rats. Just kidding, a local pet shop. Yes, $3 per mouse. Yes, he strangles it first and then swallows. Not by piece, the whole thing at once. No chewing. No, I don’t watch) 5) How big is he going to grow (Quite big) 6) What if he strangles me? (He won’t, he’s only bitten my nose once so I learnt the lesson to never have it close to my face. Yes, you can touch the tail. No, it’s best not to touch his head he gets defensive) 7) What’s his name? (Bonaparte the II) and some more questions….
The most annoying and stupid thing was actually having to repeat the answers to every person who spotted the crowd and came join the show. By the time I was done answering to the same god-damned questions to the last person, the first one could already be a licensed herpetologist knowing all about boas and their habits. I guess, So now, I either have to stop going out with the snake or get over the attention and feeling like a celebrity (and yes, they all want to take a picture of the snake for which I would have to pose occasionally as they are scared to pick the snake).
When I was walking home I couldn’t stop thinking of how different it felt and the question is why am I no longer feel comfortable about it. Why at some point talking to strangers, a meaningless chat, becomes an issue, why it is inappropriate to climb the trees when you’re over a certain age? Why some things I use to say that sounded normal to me and got a point some years later seem silly and awkward? Why do we have to change and grow up? Why do we change values. Why do we have to wear different clothes as we grow up? Why would it be inappropriate to wear street style and worn out jeans for someone who’s over 40. It is so sad to grow up after all!

Вчера был особенный день, особенный потому, что мне выпала превосходная возможность осознать насколько другим человеком я являюсь по сравнению с годом 2008 и ранее. Почему меняются люди и должны ли меняться ценности? И до этого самого момента мне не приходилось над этим задумываться. И виной такого осознания оказалась моя змея – императорский южноамериканский удав, в тот момент, как я решил вывести его на прогулку. Свежий воздух, солнце и необходимость приручения его к рукам и к созерцанию представителей рода человеческого. И вот тогда-то я и почувствовал себя неуверенно, как будто стесняясь выходить на улицу со змеей на шее. И такого чувства испытывать до этого мне не приходилось. Совсем не хотелось привлекать к себе внимание и собирать восхищенную, фотографирующую толпу, которая, вдобавок ко всему, задает кучу вопросов и пытается потрогать мое животное, как будто они никогда в жизни не видели змею. Раньше, я чувствовал себя почти знаменитостью в окружении папарацци, а сейчас я просто не чувствовал никакого желания быть центром внимания. Вместо этого я ощущал себя странным, чуть ли не сумасшедшим, неадекватным, как не назови,.. прогуливаться со змеей вокруг дома и в парке теперь было как-то не к месту. И поэтому, когда я наконец-то решил выйти на улицу, я старался держаться как можно дальше от толпы собачников, которые постоянно разглагольствуют и молятся на своих собак, которые, по всей видимости, служат отличным средством от семейного одиночества и недостатка детей. Стоя в стороне от этой группы любителей четвероногих, я прятал свою рептилию от каждого проходящего мимо. И стоя там, я все никак не мог понять, почему я был так обеспокоен фактом, что возможно, кто-нибудь увидеть змею, когда годы назад я как-то даже наслаждался вниманием и бесконечными вопросами. Тогда, годы назад, меня разбирала своеобразная гордость от обладания животным, которое многие считали экзотичными и, о заведении которого не смели даже мыслить.
И как я не старался я избегать людей, которым посчастливилось быть на улице в одно и тоже время со мной, к моему огромному сюрпризу, наша старая, чрезмерно любопытная соседка заметила меня с другого конца двора. Я заметил, как она на протяжение какого-то времени таращилась в мою сторону, не смотря на большое расстояние между нами, и я просто не мог поверить, что она способна разглядеть в моих руках еще не очень большую змею. И не успев толком оценить ее зрительные возможности, я теперь наблюдал ее прямо перед собой. Пойманный врасплох, я судорожно думал о том, как спрятать своего питомца, подозревая, что меньше всего она желала в своей жизни знать, что у меня есть змея и, что она живет с ней по соседству. Решая, что же все-таки мне сказать ей, размышляя над какой-нибудь причиной, воспользовавшись которой я мог бы убежать от нее, я наблюдал ее ну совсем близко, а она, смотря прямо на мои руки, с возбужденным лицом выдала: «Что это у тебя в руках???? Ой…как МИЛО. Это что же, змея? Какая красивая!.. И таким образом, мои опасения по поводу того, что, будучи самой немножко змеей, она определенно не обрадуется встречи со своей «родней» и проинформирует всех, кого знает и не знает об опасном соседстве не оправдались. Оказалось, что скандала в повестке не намечалось. И в то время как она была отвратительно злобной и старой, конфликтной соседкой с не менее злобным пуделем, лающим и пытаясь ухватиться зубами за икру каждого проходящего, ей нравились рептилии.
А потом случилось моя самая нелюбимая часть…бесконечный поток вопросов.. и к моему ужасу, она начала собирать толпу, которая вскоре окружила меня вместе со своими собаками, спрашивая одни и те же вопросы снова и снова.
Здесь я приведу 7 самых популярных:
1) А что это за змея (Это удав обыкновенный!) 2) А что он ест? (Мышей и крыс) 3) А как часто он ест? (Один раз в неделю, но он может быть без еды больше месяца и ничего не случится) 4) А где ты берешь мышей? (Иду в подвал каждое утро и отлавливаю, там же охочусь на крыс…. Шутка… в зоомагазине покупаю. Да, 100 рублей за мышку. Да, он душит, а потом глотает. Нет не жует. Целиком. Нет, не смотрю…) 5) А какой он вырастит? (Довольно большой.. и толстый) 6) А что если он задушит тебя? (Нет, не задушит. Он только раз укусил меня, в нос. Я урок выучил, теперь не держу его близко к лицу. Да, можно хвост потрогать. Нет, морду лучше не трогать, он может защищаться) 7) Как его зовут? (Бонопарт 2-й.) и много других вопросов.

Самая раздражающая вещь, и в тоже время дико тупая это необходимость повторения ответов на все эти вопросы вновь присоединившимся к толпе индивидуалам. В свою очередь, первый спросивший из толпы, к тому времени как я закончу отвечать на все вопросы последнему, может уже быть дипломированным герпетологом и знать все об удавах и их привычках. А еще они все хотят сфотографировать змею, а заодно и меня, когда они не решаются взять ее на руки.
Уже на пути домой, я не мог не думать о той большой разнице между мной сейчас и мной несколько лет назад. Почему же теперь я испытываю такой дискомфорт? Почему в какой-то момент разговаривать с незнакомцами уже не так приятно. Почему это неправильно карабкаться по деревьям по достижению определенного возраста? Почему вещи, которые я говорил годы назад, были полны смысла и были абсолютно логичны, а сейчас звучат бессмысленно и глупо, неловко? Как мы меняемся, когда вырастаем. Почему меняются ценности и мироощущение? Почему носим другую одежду? Неужели потертые джинсы и стрит-стиль так нелепы для 40ка летнего? И как же это грустно взрослеть!
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The greatest yet weekend this year...Mafia matters and memory loss

I don’t remember having such an eventful weekend ever. Two birthday parties fell on the same day and I had to be present at both. Both are special – one is 1pm – a Mafia themed birthday of Donna Marco at a secret mafia location, it is of a friend of mine who I’ve known for more than 13 years. And the 2nd one – both birthday and farewell party of my friend Becki who is leaving Russia for good, having lived here for a few years. The Mafia’s party involved playing a game where a group of people is split into Mafia members, a Sheriff, a doctor and common citizen.
I don’t think it’s a Russian game, however, I have not seen it played in the USA. Perhaps, someone can fill me in on its origins.
The game play both simple and complicated at the same time. Cards are given to everyone that defines your role – three mafia members, a few citizens, a doctor and sheriff. When eye-blindfolding mask are worn mafia members wake up and kill one of the citizens by pointing at their victim. The host of the game announces who of the players has been eliminated. Those in turn have to discuss the matter and try to figure out who of the people present are mafia. Every turn a player who citizens have voted off as a mafia member leaves the game being either a mafia member indeed or a mistakenly identified as a mafia member common citizen or in a worse scenario – the doctor or sheriff who are meant to help the citizen to expose mafia.
It goes without saying, everyone got to wear mafia costumes. My friend looked stunning doing impersonation of the main character of Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" of 1994. While other guys put their best effort to looking like Sicily mafia clans I decided to surprise everyone showing up as a sheriff. Can there be any mafia without a corrupted sheriff, like seriously? Perks of tutoring my little student are that I could borrow his toy-gun holster and a walkie-talkie. I got my sheriff star from Atlanta it looks almost authentic. A nice blue shirt, a twisted cord, hand cuffs and a hat that I got from the store completed my costume. And it was so much fun posing for the pictures, smoking a real cigar and being totally into it.
Later that night, we headed to Becki’s party by 8pm picking our American friend on the way. We went on drinking till 1am that night, chatting and dancing around the apartment. Just to amuse the guests I put my sheriff’s costume on again to much enjoyment of the crowd I made an attempt to arrest my friend kept saying “Ma’m, put your hands behind your back now” We had a good laugh, good wine, Jameson and coke, food, Jameson and coke again…and again and then hit the clubs.
And in the club… that I surprisingly have a very vague recollection of what was going on in the club. Frankly speaking I don’t remember much apart from that it was really crowded and hot there…and I was dead tired, too… I’ve never really suffered memory loss but drinking from 1pm throughout the day and a whole night, as it was not until 5am that we finally called it a night, probably did the trick. So, feel free to congratulate me on my first ever memory loss.
And yes, it was a good Saturday, kind of one I needed for some time, taking into account that I hadn’t partied in a few weeks before and recent attack on me while I was robbed….so it sounds I made it up for myself pretty well.

Пожалуй, это был один из самых насыщенных выходных, которых я когда-либо пережил. Два дня рождения выпали на один день и на обоих же вечеринках мне было просто необходимо присутствовать, так как обе – особенные. Первая началась в 1 час дня – Мафиозная тематическая вечеринка Донны Марко в секретном мафиозном притоне – вечеринка моей подруги, которую я знаю более чем 13 лет. И вторая – одновременно день рождение и прощальная вечеринка Бэкки – моей английской подруги, которая покидает Россию навсегда, после нескольких лет пребывания в Москве.
Мафиозная вечеринка включала в себя, в частности, игру в Мафию, где группа людей разделяются на членов мафии, шерифа, доктора и обыкновенных мирный граждан. И хотя я думаю, что Мафия не русская игра, я никогда не наблюдал, чтобы ее играли в США. Может быть, кто-нибудь просветит меня по поводу происхождения данной игры. А правила игры и сложны, и просты одновременно. Карты раздаются всем игрокам, определяя роли каждого – три члена мафии, доктор, шериф и граждане. Когда надеты маски, закрывающие глаза игроков, просыпаются члены мафии и убивают одного из граждан, указывая на него ведущему. Ведущий анонсирует, кто же был устранен, как только маски сняты игроками, которые в свою очередь принимаются обсуждать кто же из них мафия. По окончанию дискуссии методом голосования выбирается игрок, который выбывает из игры, будучи либо членом мафии, либо ошибочно выбранным как таковой обычный мирный гражданин, или в худшем сценарии – шериф или доктор, которые собственно помогают изобличить мафию.
Даже не стоит говорить, что дресс-код для вечеринки был мафиозные костюмы. Моя подруга-виновница торжества выглядела незабываемо, в образе героини фильма Тарантино 1994 года «Криминальное чтиво». В то время как все приложили максимальные усилия, чтобы выглядеть как члены сицилийских мафиозных кланов, я решил удивить всех, придя как ШЕРИФ. Серьезно, ну разве можно представить хоть какую-нибудь мафию без коррумпированного ШЕРИФА? А преподавая моему маленькому студентку, мне повезло настолько, что у него оказалась кобура для пистолета и рация! Моя звезда шерифа из Атланты, которая выглядит практически как настоящая, а также темно синяя рубашка, шапка шерифа, наручники и завитой провод довершили мой креативный образ. Такому веселью, позированию для фото, курения сигары и полному погружению в образы позавидовала бы любая тематическая вечеринка.
А позже тем же вечером, мы отправились на вечеринку Бэкки Велш. Часам примерно к 8-ми, захватив по пути нашего друга из США, мы были в доме англичан, смеясь, разговаривая и продолжая социально выпивать до 1часа ночи. Данная вечеринка включала в себя танцы, бег по квартире и дураченье. Для развлечения гостей я водрузил на себя костюм Шерифа, чему толпа обрадовалась и смеялась несколько минут, после того, как я повелительно выдал «Ma’m, put your hands behind your back please. You’re under arrest” таким образом арестовывая Мишель- подругу именинницы. А затем мы опять смеялись и пили вино, и виски Jameson с колой, ели вкусную еду, и пили все тот же Jameson с той же колой, и по-моему даже без нее… а потом опять. А после, мы поехали в клуб…
А что было в клубе… о том я уже помню совсем немного. Практически ничего, кроме того, что было очень тесно и жарко…и еще я был очень усталым. Честно говоря, я никогда не страдал от потери памяти до этого момента, но празднуя и употребляя алкоголь на двух вечеринках с часу дня на протяжении дня и всей ночи, а мы не переставали праздновать до 5-ти утра следующего дня, сделало свое дело. Так что сейчас я принимаю поздравления по поводу моей первой частичной потери памяти.
И да, это была хорошая суббота, учитывая, что я не отдыхал уже несколько выходных подряд, а также недавнюю атаку и ограбление, который я пережил совсем недавно. Так что я хоть как-то компенсировал психологическую подавленность, накопленную за последние недели.
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The Lost Dog

I was lying on my bed when I heard the doorbell ring. Who would it be, I thought and went to get the door. To my surprise the first thing I saw looking through a peep hole was… a DOG. The dog rang the bell? Oh no, there is a person next to it, a girl. I asked who it was and the answer came even weirder.
“I am regarding the dog”, the voice said.
“What dog?” I was astonished, as I knew the dog on the other side wasn’t mine. In fact my own dog was as surprised as me, standing by my side, tail waving.
“Do you know this dog? Will you please open the door?” the voice insisted. And against my better judgment I opened the door to see a strange girl in her twenties with a beautiful Collie-like dog with confused eyes and its ears down as it was somewhat terrified.
Turned out, the girl saw this dog sitting next to the entrance to the building a few times and assumed it must have wanted to get in. She decided to help the dog get home and it eventually led her to my apartment. She literally was going to ring every single apartment of which there are more than 50. The canine did look well taken care of, clear eyes, nice and shiny fur, and attitude. Looking at the sad creature I felt the urge to somehow help, it was the eyes of that dog that got me. I asked the girl if she’d checked its collar, if there was any, as it might have the information – a phone number or something. And there it was, a collar around the neck. She didn’t think of it before and even now was a bit hesitant to take a closer look at the dog’s collar as it might result in getting bitten. I extended my hand towards the animal to let it smell me but it started to hold back, clearly the dog was scared of strangers who brought it to an unknown place and now were checking it out. I went into my apartment to get my dog’s food to gain the trust of my furry visitor. I offered some but the dog didn’t eat it, just smelled, however it let me touch and pet it. Once I felt comfortable petting the dog I grabbed the collar and here it was – the phone number and the name of the dog. ATHAMAN. The girl was on the phone already talking to its master who’d lost the dog a few days ago. It was an old and disabled lady who’d been missing her pet terribly. She lived a few blocks down and I wondered why the dog was sitting by my building instead. I borrowed my dog’s extra leash to that girl who took the dog back. The girl is a neighbor who actually lives a few floors up. I’ve never seen her before though. So, we reunited the dog with his master and it is a good day so far, and I feel the warm glow that comes from having done a good deed for the day, and ever since then I feel incredibly light hearted, but, nevertheless, slightly guilty sharing it, because we're taught we're supposed to DO, not tell.

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Отмывание доходов \\ Money laundry

Originally submitted:July 30, 2006, 14:00

You'll never guess what I did earlier in the morning... i was involved in real MONEY LAUNDRY!!!
USD3$ were successfully removed from...the washing machine (naturally, in cases like this - in bills of small amount and various serial numbers) among with freshly washed clothes....

Сегодня утром я занимался самым настоящим отмыванием денег.
$3 (apx. 100 рублей) были благополучно извлечены из стиральной машины, как и положено, мелкими купюрами с рАзНымИ номерными знаками, вот только не помеченные, вместе с постиранной одежой. =)
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Originally posted by admin_vb at Первый пост. Пиар сообщества.
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По вопросам размещения анонсов и коммерческих объявлений связываемся с владельцем сообщества - isabel_guerrero


..a little in America \ …немножко в Америке (русский текст внизу)

Today I’ve discovered there are good donuts in Russia. Until recently things like that were strange to the culture here. Just a year ago you wouldn’t have been able to find one anywhere and now I see donuts places pop up all over Moscow month after month. A while ago Dunking Donuts was open in Moscow, and now there are many little places you could get one, two or a bunch of different ones. I was even more surprised seeing the same price of $.80 for a glazed regular one and $1.22 for the chocolate one and so on…well. Neat and pretty Newyorky I think… at least as it comes to prices.
Living in Russia I sometimes miss some normal, regular things that any of us would hardly notice happening to them regularly. Eating that goddamned donut (damn, how tasty they are!!!), rushing to work in the morning, cup of hot coffee in hands, or just getting a double cap on the way somewhere. It is so nice and yet we tend to not notice those things integrated into our daily routine. We never think that certain things we are so used to may not be available somewhere else and that people may have never tried those. Now that I am in Russia, at times I have this urge to get a coffee from a Starbucks for $3-4USD and not for $10 like in Moscow. I have missed going to a local Dunkin' Donuts at PG Plaza in Maryland’s Hyattsville, or the one on 3rd Av. and 26th street in New York where I once was dozing off early in the morning and ended up falling asleep right at the table for nearly an hour. And I do miss those little kiosks all around New York where at 7am I could get some really fresh donuts. Haha, as you can see I am awake that early not because I am a morning person but rather because I’d hung around NYC nights through. So today in Moscow, when I discovered that little Donuts place as I got out of the subway, I rushed in and then was hurrying home to make some hot black tea in a paper cup and eat my donuts that by the way tasted quite similar to the US ones and it was then at home when I felt, at least for a little while, a little in the U.S. once again!


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Opps... the situation

We have a situation that needs urgent resolving. The situation is complicated in a way that whatever option I will stick with may result in negative consequences.. Would you trust the people you’ve hired to do some work and to whom you paid in advance – due to the circumstances that could not have been foreseen - to temporally stop their work, get their tools and go work on their next contract, promising they would finish it up later… ? Probably not, unless there was an accident that forces me to accept this condition. But really, I feel pretty shitty about having to make such choice…to trust and feel conned off later or not to trust and feel like some insensitive pig.

It all begun a couple months ago when I decided to have my room renovated, a wall built to expand the corridor and to make a really modern hi-tech style living room with a flat tv and home theatre sound system. I called those Moldavian immigrants (Moldovians particularly do this kind of works here in Russia as long as you want a decent quality) and we agreed on the amount of $1500 usd for the complete renovation (not including the materials)…We have known them for a while, they seemed a decent and honest couple – a husband and wife. Vasiliy, this is the name of the guy, did some works for us before, as well as his relatives. There was one condition, though, they would try to have everything done by December, 26th and then head back to Moldova to visit their family for a month. As the work progressed, it became clear there would not be enough time to complete it and so we were left with the 90% completed room (the part of wallpapers to be put on the wall) and the corridor that was completed by only 30% - it needed to be tiled, painted, lighting to be installed. They left for the month, having promised to finish it when they’ve come back. We really had no choice but to agree, and even were silly enough to have paid the whole amount upfront upon their leaving as they literally begged us to pay the whole amount since they would ‘really need a lot of money in their country’. We went for it thinking it will be substantial to us to know they would leave their tools (drills, hammers, etc) which actually cost something at our place to guarantee that they won’t disappear.
A month went by since, then another started, we had not heard from them until one day a phone rung. His wife was on the phone and she informed me, with the voice that gave me creeps, that they’d had a freak accident on the road while driving to Moldova. Six people got injured, she’d hit her head, he’d broken his leg, the other people got their internal organs injured. He also said she was back in Moscow, but her husband remained there. They got into even worse trouble as their landlord, an ex con who served the time for murdering someone, in Moscow, had rented their place to someone else and thus, having gotten back to Moscow she ended up alone without money and basically in the streets.
They are now in a position of homeless people. To rent a new place they would need to start working and getting paid to afford the rent as they have spent everything back there. Therefore It is not in their interest to work for us; we had paid everything upfront and completing they job wont make their situation any better and nor will it be of any profit to them. They have been asking if they could get their tools and start working for someone else to get paid and rent a place, we, on the other hand, have to trust that having gotten some money they will return and complete the work. So, it’s just their word – since the tools are now with them, and they are with someone else struggling to get a new place, the very same tools that were that guarantee the work being finished… it seems we will have to believe that our renovation will be completed soon. Will it be? the question remains unanswered and what I am left to do – is to hope for the good in people.

My pet snake has shown its true face...

After my frilled dragon tragically died on the last day of 2011 (which I find to be a bad omen since 2012 is the year of Dragon) I could no longer see the empty terrarium without being reminded of my pet's death. So i decided I would get another pet and this time it was going to be a Boa Constrictor. So it was decided and off I went to the hugest in Moscow so-called 'Pet's market' to choose a new inhabitant for the terrarium that i have had for the past few years, that would until recently be occupied by the most amazing animal such as frilled dragon.
When I arrived to the pet-shop I was faced with a hard choice as there were quite a few snakes avaliable. I will point it out, what I wanted to get was a Boa. Most of them turned out to be not quite so attractive, their patterns weren't perfect and rich of color. I wanted to have a vivd and colorful patterned snake and, with that in mind, I chose the biggest among those I saw just because it had a good and rigtly shaped pattern, but since it was about to shed I could not see or determine how colorful it was really going to be. I picked it with hopes that having shed its skin the Boa will develope its true color given that it's already possesing the almost perfect pattern. I expected it to be very beautiful! Little did I know that three weeks later the snake would demonstrate quite aggressive behaviour.
For the past 3 weeks my Boa has been a great snake. After shedding, to my disappointment, it did not show that vivd color I had hoped to see. To make matter worse, when petting it the other day it stroke me out of nowhere, biting my finger!
I put her on my bed and watched it hissing and striking at me, swelling up and scaring the heck out me! It wouldn't calm down even by now and keeps on hissing at me every time I pass by.
Turns out I've got myself some ungrateful and agressive snake that hates me after I fed her some nice mice!
The fact is that it's not a cat or dog that you can kinda tame, this animal is apparently driven by its natural instincts to react to me as to its enemy and I fail to see how I could change it and not have a huge snake that will eventually bite me real bad!

Here are some photos I took, while it was swelling up and hissing, demonstrating its huge mouth! I still love snakes!! :)

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ooops.... my abandoned blog

Well given that I now have a shiny new FB account.....My page was once nicely designed, I remember spending a whole night, creating and editing the cover-photo (background) for my blog. Having been uploaded on a third-server it would make my page look vivid and actual. Oh, indeed, it was a very characteristic design that is now long gone with that third-party server it was uploaded onto. And this blank grayness is what remains of what used to be so inspiring!
And not only did the design forsake my LJ, it is no longer home to my observations and I something I would have hoped to be some clever thoughts and funny stories. And only this lack of motivation to write anything here is still here...!

I just felt like writing something here! Long live LJ!:)
красный (анимация)

Немного новостей | A bit of news of legal nature

Был в суде в качестве истца. С представителем ответика стали почти друзьями - но только в перерывах, до и после начала заседания. Во время него - противоположные стороны. Я - истец, он - магазин Эльдорадо. Было жарко.

Смертельно хочу виски с колой.

Был в клубе. Не пил, нету денег, нету настроения, нету компании. Черт.

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My lawsuit is over now! I represented myself, and despite being the plaintiff - Made friends with the respondant's lawyer. But that was only during the breaks, until and after the hearing. While it was going we turned out to be the opposite sides with all requisitte passionate arguments :) Me - as the plaintiff and him as the Eldorado fucking electronics shop that had sold be bad quality merchandise. It was hot though!
Deadly want to drink whiskey with coca-cola.
Went clubbing... No drinking, no money, no mood. no company. Sucks.