Как-то вяло, said Sabrina, looking down on her New Year’s present. A thick pair of jeans. Frustration wouldn’t begin to describe it: she hadn’t showered for days because the water in the building had been turned off — turns out pipes do freeze and her nails, oh, her nails… A disaster. Not something a woman like — her — should be showing around. You see, Sabrina met Georgiy, which now went by George in the United States, while serial visiting museums, theaters and boutiques in Moscow, she would eat cans of caviar without thinking of tomorrow — ведь девушка так должна жить, пуская Георгий придумает откуда икры еще взять. This, in her head, was the real her. And George’s American pay check took her Her away from her... Every. Month. He’s the man, she thought, why, in her artistic mind, was she now forced to work, to simply make rent and edibles? Why on Earth? To work at the groceries 30 minutes away by bus. In thirty minutes she’d Moscow’s center! But here she was leaving from nowhere going to exactly no heaven on Earth: work! She had moved to the United States with George because the posters told her she would have that Hollywood smile as soon as her passport got stamped. It turned out that every tooth costed, in the real outside-poster world, 200 dollars. 200 dollars! Her мелирование was out of date and needed renewal. Sabrina was not herself. Sabrina was not a woman. And George… George was far from being a man. Как-то вяло.
Toda criança normal tem como lembrança normal algum parque ou algo extremamente colorido. A primeira lembrança que eu tenho é de um corredor de hotel, uma janela no fim. Depois... Perguntaram-me em New Jersey se o que eu falava era brasileiro ou espanhol, peguei a bicicleta, achei graça e ralei o joelho - não exatamente nessa ordem, mas nada que me impedisse de ir comprar comida chinesa em caixinha do outro lado da rua, eu sempre kept the creeps quanto à vendedora, ela era alta demais pra uma chinesa. Foi nessa época que criei um certo trauma em relação a indianos, o acento indiano é um negócio a se discutir - parei de comer dunkin donuts. Era uma máfia, em todo Dunkin Donut e posto de gasolina só se trabalhava indiano. Admito que só fazia ESL pra perder aula, mas o mundo inteiro precisava sentar em um teatro e ver a cara da Miss Rudek, quando eu, o Hupert (chinês), e a Katrina (mexicana) passamos a ser crianças sem línguas maternas: Havíamos aprendido duas ao mesmo tempo, com um empur
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