Monday, March 25, 2013

dreams of Vladimir Putin (he's shorter in real life); we speak French, my Russian is too risqué in its infancy (must not insult Putin), and French is like un mer sublime dans une verre d'eau. I am awarded a Visa for life, once I proved that I am with Russian, pulling a sheet of music from my bag where I am transcribing words. This is Mozart's doing--as Midge says to Johnny in Vertigo, "Johnny, Mozart's the boy for you."


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