In the last few days of the trip, tiredness has caught up with me. Party on Friday went late with good conversation, lots of wine, and some drama. Woke up late Sat, left the house after dark, drove aimlessly around the city. I fell asleep at the movies (Looking for Eric at Dom Kino) and slipped into a loud argument with my mom for no good reason (she used the word "conspiracy" in reference to Soviet literature and I thought the word didn't fit). Later, my friend Masha visited again, and showed more pictures from her trips to Volkhov, Staraja Ladoga, Novaja Ladoga, and other historical towns and monasteries north of St. Petersburg. Photos filled with general longing. More travel?
Couldn't focus enough to blog, joined twitter instead (as bowlga). Am I now partaking of it all?
After my friend Johnnie kindly dropped us off at the airport at 3:30 am on Saturday night, collapsed on the airplane and slept for 2,5 hours till Frankfurt. Woke up in Frankfurt, went through more security (although no passport control), slept for 12 hours on the plane till San Francisco. Small interruptions. Food, Poets&Writers magazine, An Education (it could've been very good, but wasn't), finished watching "Inglorious Basterds." This movie has to be studied in detail for the subtle ways Tarantino creates tension. He relies on genre forms and music for sure, but that doesn't explain all of it. Why is it when a man simply washes his face, I'm expecting him to turn around and start shooting?
When we arrived in SF, it was sunny and bright and very warm. Took a nap till 5 pm; still couldn't stay up past 9 pm.