Photo Shoot

In the category of "Things I Never Thought I Would See in My Soviet Apartment Building's Courtyard," I have to add a one-hour photo shoot of two young ladies and one of the lady's little foo-foo dog. I had seen one of the girls before in the stairwell, and it was she I first recognized as I walked through the gate and into the courtyard. A professional-looking photographer was asking her to pose against the grimy courtyard wall as if this was Fifth Avenue. I smiled and waved to what's-her-face as she tilted back her head and put her hand on her hip. What else was I supposed to do? As I passed the girls, I noticed they had set up a little station of props, including various shawls, a hat, and some sort of feathery boa. Running around the entire scene was some sort of chihuahua mix. After getting back to my apartment I watched the whole scene for a while longer, as the girls took turn being photographed in front of white, dirty bricks.

My daily commute

Living in Ukraine never ceases to amaze in terms of random sights that will turn up in places that you've passed by a million times and in places where you rarely go. As I leave my building, I have to pass through a gate for cars and people. Just to the right of the gate as you leave is a small patch of brick wall, where people from the nearby casino and restaurant and random people from the street smoke when the weather is bad. A few weeks ago I noticed some new very provocative and simple graffiti on the light brick wall: a large red heart with a prominent "twig and berries" protruding from the bottom left part of the heart. I can't help but think the appearance of the artwork must have coincided with Valentine's Day, which is right around when the heart plus johnson appeared. A tribute to some unrequited love? Perhaps. Nevertheless, the local authorities aren't so romantic, and they soon crossed out the love pump with black paint. Too bad.

Strangely, right around this time, and I think this is just a coincidence, a new mannequin appeared in the display window of the extremely fancy, posh baby clothes store that i pass everyday on the way to work. The same store where I have never seen any customers. However, it appears that part of the appeal of the clothes is that if you buy the clothes, you can begin training your rich child for the future, when the habitat of polar bears will migrate so far south that you will have to do battle with them in the streets of Kyiv, armed with only a simple bow.