Наконец-то. Жара стоит просто ужасная, спасаюсь, как и многие калининградцы, только на море или на карьерах. Все собираюсь найти новую работу, но пока не хочется ничего делать, только просмотрела объявления о работе, но пока не звонила. Впрочем на ближайший год работа у меня есть, но что там дальше будет, не знаю, все равно надо искать варианты. Это мешаает наслаждаться отпуском, а надо бы просто выбросить из головы и отдыхать.

Завтра будут рассматривать вопрос о продлении контракта. Оч хочется послать всех на *** А еще больше сделать это перед 1 сентябрем, посмотреть как они потом будут скакать. Только студентов жалко, на них ведь отыграются (гадюки)

Достали на работе. Нет, не студенты, начальство! Неужели так трудно сразу объяснить, как расчитать часы работы. Сначала заставили меня написать обни цифры, ничего не объясняя, потом уже от третьих лиц я узнала, как надо расчитывать и откуда берутся эти часы отработки, а теперь, когда я сказала, что у меня лишних почти 60 часов, они еще недовольны, чего это я так возмущаяюсь и паникую. А какого Х**** я должна работать, если мне это вооюще не оплачивается? Они то сами  даже на замены идти не хотят, хотя у них то как раз недоработок по 50 и более часов.

Привыкли жить в совдепии, работу не делают, а деньги все равно капают в кошелек.

Кажется я начираю понимать, почему большинство молодых преподавателей не выдерживают работы в универе. С одной стороны хорошо, когда тебя никто не дергает ежеминутно, но с другой стороны, никто и пальцем не пошевелит, чтобы тебе помочь. Я тут две недели работала на замене (причем первая рабочая неделя началась в четвер, 2, а закончиласьв субботу, 11, получилось вообще без выходных), препод сегодня, т.е. в понедельник, вышла снова на работу, так , оказывается, я еще должна была позвонить и узнать, когда она выходит и надо ли нести ей ее учебники. Все ее учебники с журналами групп были у меня, она выходит на работу, а я должна гемороится (извините), чтобы ей это все вернуть.
Кому это вообще надо!!! Мне или ей?!
Вот из-за такого отношения народ и разбегается. Дело ведь даже не в студентах, а в отношении в коллективе и взаимоотношениях с такими структурами, как отдел кадров.Про последний вообще стараюсь не вспоминать. У нас начальника отдела кадров зовут Станислава Францевна, я ее назвала Фрицевной (сама не заметила, как сорвалось с языка)теперь вообще боюсь с ней встречаться. А вообще по сути это обслуживающий орган, а ведут себя так, словно сам ректор у них в подчинении.Так с ними порой "насобачишься", что хочется написать заявление и свалить нах***
Скорей бы уже праздники, выключу телефон и уеду к родителям, чтобы никто не доставал.

Всех защитников наших поздравляю с мужским праздником!!!

В этом году набрали слишком много студентов на разные факультеты, но только мех.тех отличился рекордным отчислением студентов!!! Точнее говоря, они старались сделать так, чтобы отчислить некоторое число студентов в разумных пределах, но перегнули палку и многие студенты сами забрали документы, одни перевелись на заочку, вторые в другие вузы и филиалы вузов, а третьи просто ушли, в никуда. Такой засады никто не ожидал на факультете. Теперь многие группы отной специальности будут "сливать" вместе. Мою группу английского тоже "сольют" к кому-то, у них будет другой препод по англ.яз. Вот что меня поражает и бесит в этой ситуации, это отношение к студентам. Каждый препод занимается по своему учебнику, студенты тоже покупали эти (не самые дешевые!)учебники, а теперь надо будет брать новые, еще не факт, что совпадет пройденная грамматика и уж точно не совпадет лексика. Конечно, все пока на уровне слухов, но...
Видимо те, кто сидит "наверху" , думает тем, на чем сидит.

Наконец-то маленький отдых. Не надо никуда ходить, никого ждать. Заочники так и не появились на консультациях. Были правда двое, защитили контрольные работы, правда я немного схалявила и не стала их мучить грамматикой (меня другие студенты ждали). А в свое расписание только один пришел и непрямую спросил, сколько стоит зачет. Вроде взрослые люди, а как маленькие...
Уже второй день сижу дома. Надо писать конспекты уроков, но так лениво!!!!!

Когда уже станет теплее? У меня в квартире 16-17 градусов, а включаешь обогреватель, пробки вышибает. Вечером напряжения почти нет, т.к. все пытаются обогреваться. А завтра утром еще на работу ехать, мне заочников дали, а они не ходят, а я обязана там сидеть. В общем, надоело все, надоели холода, хочу тепло. Было бы на улице до -5 была бы просто идеальная погода.

Сегодня приехала домой. Как бы родители не злились, а мой дом все же здесь. Я так ждала эти приздники, чтобы выспаться, а для этого хватило 3 дня. Правда папа молодец, обычно втает рано и топает по дому, как слон и телевизор включает громко, а эти дни ходил на цыпочках и телевизор тихо включал. Дал мне выспаться. Теперь вот сижу и не хочется спать.
Как новый год провела? С родителями, дома. Никуда не ходила, ни с кем не встречалась. До половины пятого утра ждала сестру с дискотеки. Что-то смотрела по телевизору, а больше думала о том, что мне принес прошедший год.
Удивительно, но многие мои знакомые говорили, что в последние 2 месяца у них было такое ощущение, что все неприятности и проблемы, которые не свершились в течение года, "свалились на голову" в эти месяцы. А еще очень у многих, и у меня в том числе, нет ощущения праздника.
Надеюсь, что так не у всех.
P.S. забыла дописать, что сделала для себя важное открытие: БЛОНДИНКА это не цвет волос, а склад ума, и встречаются такие особи не только среди женщин, но и среди мужчин (правда в моих случаях это были крашеные блондины, а по поведению натуральные блондинки).

Наконец-то купила все подарки Правда к родителям поедем только 31 числа, а до этого будем отмечать с друзьями.
Студенты мои практически все долги сдали, кто хотел получить зачет, ну а остальные сами виноваты... Я, в общем. человек мягкий, но не люблю, когда давят на жалость. Есть ситуации, когда не смог вовремя все сделать, но это всегда можно объяснить и договориться сделать в другой раз. А вот когда не сделали и потом приходят не готовые и плачутся, терпеть не могу... Все равно на халяву не получат.

Wish you happy new year!!! May God give you full of prosper and happiness in this year!!!

Видимо стуенты держат меня за лохушку. Неужели они думают, что я не знаю их уровень знаний? Одна красава у меня уже переписала контрольную, при чем тот же самый вариант с 5 на 3. Теперь для второй сделаю отдельный и еще раз заставлю переписать.
Наверное теперь считают, что я сука. Ну и пусть, в следующий раз будут думать своей головой.
Вообще забавно наблюдать за студентами. С преподавательского места все прекрасно видно, а они думают, что раз они не видят меня, то и я их тоже не вижу. Прям как страусы.
Еще есть у меня там троица, которая постоянно устраивает балаган из урока. Постоянно друг друга "цепляют", дерутся и т.п. Будь это средние классы, я бы подумала, что они так выражают свою влюбленность, но ведь они достаточно взрослые, чтобы выражать такие чувства иначе. Тогда что это вообще такое? может просто физическое развитие ушло далеко вперед умственного? Но они отнудю не глупы. Просто не знаю, как разрулить ситуацию. Мне тяжело работать в такой обстановке. Приходится говорить громче них, а класс не отапливается, так у меня к вечеру голос местами пропадает, а на следующий день я с трудом веду урок, т.к. голоса почти нет. Благо там студенты так не шумят и стараются вникать в то, что я говорю.

F**k!!!!!!!
Зима наступила! Проснулась в воскресенье, а на улице снег метет!!!
А я и сапоги зимние купить не успела, придется походить в старых. И зар.плата только на следующей неделе

Давненько я тут не появлялась. Закрутилась, замоталась на работе. Еще у компа моего на пару недель "крышу" снесло. Не выдержал, бедный, такой нагрузки.;)
Да и сама я чувствую себя разбитой. Тяжко учить людей иностранному языку, когда они и родного не знают. Задают такие вопросы, на которые я затрудняюсь ответить, тк для меня это на интуитивном уровне восприятия языка, а научно и по книжкам никак не объясняется. Например, как объяснить разницу между start & begin? Ну все в таком роде. Один вообще спросил, зачем такие трудности с времеными в англ. и нельзя ли сделать проще. Можно подумать это я язык изобретала и столько туда "навинтила".
И тем не менее, похоже это все-таки МОЕ.

Папина новая "игрушка". от интсрукции к ней меня уже тошнит

Надо мне плакатик себе нарисовать НЕ ВЕСТИ БИЗНЕС С ДРУЗЬЯМИ И ЗНАКОМЫМИ
Мари окончательно отказалась от ведения дел переводческого бюро и курсов иностранного языка. Зачем тогда нас всех теребила, учебники эти заказала и все на начале и бросила. А ведь можно было сначала со своей учебой разобраться, а потом решать с курсами и бюро. Говорит, что все это будет, но будет другой человек. Хочет Ладу пригласить для этого, с этим человеком я тем более работать не буду. Да и с другим тоже. Там мало кто понимает специфику нашей работы и отнесется с пониманием к возникающим проблемам.
Мне дали еще одну группу в нагрузку к моей ставке. Теперь будет еще и английский, надо искать лексику по пищевой промышленость. На немецком нашла, а на англ нет

Меня в очередной раз "отфутболили" из отдела кадров. Не на их бланке, видите ли, написан договор. Завтра опять пойду. Такое ощущение, что они до сих пор живут в совдепии.

В сто тысячный раз убедилась, чем меньше значим человек, чем ниже его внутренняя культура, тем больше он из себя строит, тем больше пытается показать свою значимость, унижая других людей.

Заниматься репетиторством гораздо проще, чем преподавать. За 2- 3 пары устаю больше, чем на своих занятиях по пять пар в день. Начинается хронический недосып. И кажется я вот вот сорву голос. К концу третьей пары начинаю сипеть.
Кто-нибудь знает рецепт, как восстановить связки?

It was not so horrible as I thought. I had only one class amd the group was weak, even backward. And I'v got full pay

"Зарекалась свинья в лес ходить" - это точно про меня. До сих пор ведь вполне успешно избегала вести дела с друзьями и родственниками, да и на папином примере наглядно видела, к чему это может привести. И вот пожалуйста!!! Моя бывшая однокурсница и приятельница решила открыть курсы иностр. языков и бюро переводов. Аутентичные учебники дорогие, а немецкие стоят как минимум 500 р. Само собой, нужно покупать курс целиком, тут же начались претензии, что это слишком дорого, что я много требую и тд. И все это высказывается мне, словно я все заказываю для себя, для собственного пользования. И все это с истеричной ноткой.
Отхожу от этого уже неделю.

Наш универ как всегда отличился, дипломы не выдали только нашему курсу. Теперь будут только в сентябре, если повезет. На работу не оформляют, попросили работать пока "на общественных началах", т.е даром, обещали это время прибавить к отпуску. Только на каких основаниях? Что-то я уже устала от всей этой нервотрепки.

E. Waugh

Mr. Loveday's Little Outing
-1-
"You will not find your father greatly changed," remarked Lady Moping as the car turned into the gates of the County Asylum.
"Will he be wearing a uniform?" asked Angela
"No, dear, of course not. He is receiving the very best attention,"
It was Angela's first visit and it was being made at her own suggestion.
Ten years had passed since the showery day in late summer when Lord Moping had been taken away; a day of confused but bitter memories for her; the day, of Lady Moping's annual garden party, always bitter, confused that day by the capice of the weather which, remaining clear and brilliant with promise until the arrival of the first guests had suddenly blackened into а squall. There had been a scuttle for cover; the marquee had capsized; a frantic carrying of cushions and chairs; a table-cloth lofted to the boughs of the monkey- puzzler, fluttering in the rain; a bright period and the cautious emergence of guests on to the soggy lawns; another squall; another twenty minutes of sunshine . It had been an abominable afternoon, culminating at about six o'clock in her father's attempted suicide.
Lord Moping habitually threatened suicide on the occasion of the garden party; that year he had been found black in the face, hanging by his braces in the orangery; some neighbours, who were sheltering there from the rain, set him on his feet again, and before dinner a van had called for him. Since then Lady Moping had paid seasonal calls at the asylum and returned in time tor tea, rather reticent of
her experience.
Many of her neighbours were inclined to be critical of Lord Moping' s accommodation. He was not, of course, an ordinary inmate. He lived in a separate wing of the asylum, especially devoted to the segregation of wealthier lunatics. These were given every consideration which their foibles permitted. They might choose their own clothes (many indulged in the liveliest fancies), smoke the most expensive brands of cigars and on the anniversaries of their certification, entertain any other inmates for whom they had an attachment to private dinner parties.
The fact remained, however, that it was far from being the most expensive kind of institution; the uncompromising address, "County Home for Mental Defectives,"' stamped across the notepaper, worked on the uniforms of their attendants, painted, even, upon a prominent hoarding at the main entrance, suggested the lowest associations. From time to time, with less or more tact, her friends attempted to bring to Lady Moping' s notice particulars of sea-side nursing homes, of "qualified practitioners with large private grounds suitable for the charge of nervous or difficult cases", but she accepted them lightly: when her son came of age he might make any changes that he thought fit; meanwhile she felt no inclination to relax her economical regime; her husband had betrayed her basely on the one day in the year when she looked for loyal support, and was far better off than he deserved
A few lonely figures in great-coats were shuffling and loping about tne park.
"Those are the lower-class lunatics", observed Lady Moping. "There is a very nice little flower garden for people like your father. I sent them some cuttings last year."
They drove past the blank, yellow brick facade to the doctor's private entrance and were received by him in the "visitors room", set aside for interviews of this kind. The window was protected on the inside by bars and wire netting; there was no fireplace; when Angela nervously attempted to move her chair further from the radiator, she found that it was screwed to the floor.
"Lord Moping is quite ready to see you," said the doctor. "How is he?"
"Oh, very well, very well indeed, I'm glad to say. He had rather a nasty cold some time ago, but apart from that his condition is excellent. He spends a lot of his time in writing."
They heard a shuffling, skipping sound approaching along the flagged passage. Outside the door a high Angela recognized as her father's said: "I haven't the time, I tell you. Let them come back later."
A gentler tone, with a slight rural burr;replied, "Now come along, It is a purely formal audience. You need stay no longer than you like."
Then the door was pushed open (it had no lock or fastening) and Lord Moping came into the room. He was attended by an elderly little man with full white hair and an expression of great kindness.
"Look at your father," said the doctor. "He'd be quite lost without Loveday to act as his secretary." "It doesn't seem fair."
-2-
Angela left the asylum, oppressed by a sense of injustice. Her mother was unsympathetic.
"Think of being locked up in a loony bin all one's life."
"He attempted to hang himself in the orangery," replied Lady Moping, "in front of the Chester-Martins."
"I don't mean Papa, I mean Mr Loveday."
"I don't think I know him."
"Yes, the looney they have put to look after Papa"
"Your father's secretary. A very decent sort of man, I thought, and eminently suited to his work."
Angela left the question for the time, but returned to it again at luncheon on the following day.
"Mums, what does one have to do to get people out of the bin?"
"The bin? Good gracious, child, I hope that you do not anticipate your father's return here."
"No, no. Mr Loveday."
"Angela, you seem to me to be totally bemused. I see it was a mistake to take you with me on our little visit yesterday."
After luncheon Angela disappeared to the library and was soon immersed in the lunacy laws as represented in the encyclopedia.
She did not re-open the subject with her mother, but a fortnight later, when there was a question of taking some pheasants over to her father for his eleventh Certification Party she showed an unusual willingness to run over with them. Her mother was occupied with other interests and noticed nothing suspicious,
Angela drove her small car to the asylum, and after delivering the game, asked for Mr Loveday, He was busy at the time making a crown for one of his companions who expected hourly to be anointed Emperor of Brazil, but he left his work and enjoyed several minutes conversation with her. They spoke about her father's health and spirits. After a time Angela remarked, "Don't you ever want to get away?"
Mr Loveday looked at her with his gentle, blue-grey eyes. "I've got very well used to the life, miss. I'm fond of the poor people here, and I think that several of them are quite fond of me. At least I think they would miss me if I were to go."
"But don't you ever think of being free again?"
"Oh yes, miss, I think of it - almost all the time I think of it"
"What would you do if уоu got out? There must be something you would sooner do than stay here."
.
The old man fidgeted uneasily. Well, miss, it sounds ungrateful, but I can't deny I should welcome a little outing, once, before I get too old to enjoy it I expect we all have our secret ambitions, and there is one thing I often wish I could do. You musnt't ask me what ... It wouldn't take long. But I do feel that if I had done it, just for a day, an afternoon even, then I would die quiet I could settle down again easier, and devote myself to the poor crazed people here with a better heart. Yes, I do feel that"
There were tears in Angela's eyes that afternoon as she drove away. "He shall have his little outing, bless him," she said.
-3-

From that day onwards for many weeks Angela had a new purpose in life. She moved about the ordinary routine of her home with an abstracted air and an unfamiliar, reserved courtesy which greatly disconcerted
Lady Moping.
"I believe the child's in love. I only pray that it isn't that uncouth Egbertson boy."
She read a great deal in the library, she cross-examined any guests who had pretensions to legal or medical knowledge, she showed extreme goodwill to old Sir Roderick Lane-Foscote, their Member. The names "alienisti," "barrister" or "government official" now had for her the glamour that formerly surrounded film actors and professional wrestlers. She was a woman with a cause; and before the end of the hunting season she had triumphed. Mr Loveday achieved his liberty.
The doctor at the asylum showed reluctance but no real opposition. Sir Roderick wrote to the Home Office. The necessary papers were signed, and at last the day came when Mr Loveday took leave of the home where he had spent such long and useful years,
'That is Mr Loveday who acts as Lord Moping's attendant”
"Secretary," said Lord Moping. He moved with a jogging gait and shook hands with his wife.
"This is Angela. You remember Angela, don't you?"
"No, I can't say that I do. What does she want?"
"We just came to see you."
"Well, you have come at an exceedingly inconvenient time. I am very busy. Have you typed out that letter to the Pope yet, Loveday?"
"No, my lord. If you remember, you asked me to look up the figures about the Newfoundland fisheries first?"
"So I did. Well, it is fortunate, as I think the whole letter will have to be redrafted. A great deal of new information has come to light since luncheon. A great deal. .. .You see, my dear, I am fully occupied." He turned his restless, quizzical eyes upon Angela "I suppose you have come about the Danube. Well, you must come again later. Tell them it will be all right, quite all right, but I have not had time to give my full attention to it. Tell them that."
"Very well, Papa,"
"Anyway," said Lord Moping rather perulantly, "it is a matter of secondary importance. There is the Elbe and the Amazon and the Tigris to be dealt with first, eh, Lovedey? ... Danube indeed. Nasty little river. I'd only call it a stream myself Well, can't stop, nice of you to come. Write to me about it. That's it. Put it in black and white."
And with that he left the room.
"You see," said the doctor, "he is in excellent condition. He is putting on weight, eating and sleeping excellently. In fact, the whole tone of his system is above reproach."
The door opened again and Loveday returned.
"Forgive my coming back, sir, but I was afraid that the young lady might be upset at his lordship's not knowing her. You mustn't mind him, miss. Next time he'll be very pleased to see you. It's only today he's put out on account of being behind-hand with his work. You see, sin all this week I've been helping in the library and I haven't been able to get all his lordship's reports typed out. And he's got muddled with his card index. That's all it is. He doesn't mean any harm."
"What a nice тал," said Angela, when Loveday had gone back to his charge.
"Yes. I don't know what we should do without old Loveday. Everybody loves him, staff and patients alike”
"I remember him well. It's a great comfort to know that you are able to get such good warders," said Lady Moping; "people who don't know, say such foolish things about asylums." "Oh, but Loveday isn't a warder," said the doctor, "You don't mean he's cuckoo, too?" said Angela The doctor" corrected her. "He is an inmate. It is rather an interesting case. He has been here for thirty-five years."

But I' ve never seen anyone saner, said Angela, "He certainly has that air," said the doctor, "and in the last twenty years we have treated him as such. He is the lite and soul of the place. Of course he is not one of the private patients, but we allow him to mix freely with them. He plays billiards excellently, does conjuring tricks at the concert, mends their gramophones, valets them, helps them in their crossword puzzles and various - er - hobbies. We allow them to give him small tips for services rendered, and he must by now have amassed quite a little fortune. He has a way with even the most troublesome of them. An invaluable man about the place."
"Yes, but why is he here?"
"Well, it is rather sad. When he was a very young man he killed somebody - a young woman quite unknown to him, whom he knocked off her bicycle and then throttled. Не gave himself up immediately afterwards and has been here ever since."
"But surely he is perfectly safe now. Why is he not let out?"
"Well, I suppose if it was to anyone's interest, he would be. He has no relatives except a step-sister who lives in Plymouth. She used to visit him at one time, but she hasn't been for years now. He's perfectly happy here and I can assure you we aren't going to take the first steps in turning him out. He's far too useful to us."
"But it doesn't seem fair," said Angela.
His departure was marked by some ceremony. Angela and Sir Roderick Lane-Foscote sat with the doctors on the stage of the gymnasium. Below them were assembled everyone in the institution who was thought to be stable enough to endure the excitement.
Lord Moping, with a few suitable expressions of regret, presented Mr Loveday on behalf of the wealthier lunatics with a gold cigarette case; those who supposed themselves to be emperors showered him with decorations and titles of honour. The warders gave him a silver watch and many of the nonpaying inmates were in tears on the day of the presentation.
The doctor made the main speech of the afternoon. "Remember," he remarked, "that you leave behind you nothing but our warmest good wishes. You are bound to us by ties that none will forget. Time will only deepen our sense of debt to you. If at any time in the future you should grow tired of your life in the world, there will always be a welcome for you here. Your post will be open."
A dozen or so variously afflicted lunatics hopped and skipped after him down the drive until the iron gates opened and Mr Loveday stepped into his freedom. His small trunk had already gone to the station; he elected to walk. He had been reticent about his plans, but he was well provided with money, and the general impression was that he would go to London and enjoy himself a little before visiting his step-sister in Plymouth.
It was to the surprise of all that he returned within two hours of his liberation. He was smiling whimsicaly, a gentle, self-regarding smile of reminiscence.
"I have come back," he informed the doctor, "I think that now I shall be here for good."
"But, Loveday, what a short holiday. I'm afraid that you have hardly enjoyed yourself at all."
"Oh yes, sir, thank you, sir, I've enjoyed myself very much. I'd been promising myself one little treat, all these years. It was short, sir, but most enjoyable. Now I shall be able to settle down again to my work here without any regrets."
Half a mile up the road from the asylum gates, they, later discovered an abandoned bicycle. It was a lady's machine of some antiquity. Quite near it in the ditch lау the strangled body of a young woman, who, riding home to her tea, had chanced to overtake Mr Loveday, as he strode along, musing on his opportunities.

Пролетело как всегда быстро. Дипломы до сих пор не выдали, не могу оформить документы на работу. :( Все отдыхают , а я пишу учебные планы. Еще этот "Top-level" куда-то пропал. Хотела взять для студентов что-нибудь поинтересней, чем наши учебники, но магазин куда-то делся и приходится планировать по российским учебникам. Тупость...

Прочитала "Все оттенки голубого" Рю Мураками. (ну поперло меня на японцев) Своеобразная книжка, я бы сказала из разряда "правда жизни", о наркоманах. Можно почитать для общего развития. Очень неприятный осадок в душе ...

Sorry, I don't remember author's name

THE WORM IN THE APPLE
The Crutchmans were so very, very happy and so temperate in all their habits and so pleased with everything that came their way that one was bound to suspect a worm in their rosy apple and that the extraordinary rosiness of the fruit was only meant to conceal the gravity and the depth of the infection. Their house, for instance, on Hill Street with all those big glass windows. Who but someone suffering from a guilt complex would want so much light to pour into their rooms? And all the wall-to -wall carpeting as if an inch of bare floor (there was none) would touch on some deep memory of unrequition and loneliness. And there was a certain necrophilic ardor to their gardering. Why be so intense about digging holes and planting seeds and watching them come up? Why this morbid concern with the earth?
She was a pretty woman with that striking pallor you so often find in maniacs, Larry was a big man who used to garden without a shirt, which may have shown a tendency to infantile exhibitionism.
They moved happily out to Shady Hill after the war, Larry had served in the Navy. They had two happy children: Rachel and Tom. But there were already some clouds on their horizon. Larry's ship had been sunk in the war and he had spent [our days on a raft in the Mediterranean and surely this experience would make him skeptical about the comforts and songbirds of Shady Hill and leave him with some racking nightmares. But what was perhaps more serious was the fact that Helen was rich. She was the only daughter of old Charlie Simpson - one of the last of the industrial buccaneers — who had left her with a larger income than Larry would ever take away from his job at Melcher & Thaw. The dangers in this situation are well-known. Since Larry did not have to make a living — since he lacked any incentive — he might take it easy, spend too much time on the golf links and always have a glass in his hand. Helen would confuse financial with emotional independence and damage the delicate balances within their marriage. But Larry seemed to have no nightmares and Helen spread her income among the charities and lived a comfortable but modest life. Larry went to his job each morning with such enthusiasm that you might think he was trying to escape from sonic-thing. His participation in the life of the community was so vigorous that he must have been left with almost no time for self-examination. He was everywhere: he was at the communion rail, the fifty-yard line, he played the oboe with the Chamber Music Club, drove the fire truck, served on the school board and rode the 8:03 into New York every morning. What was the sorrow that drove him?
He may have wanted a larger family. Why did they only have two children? Why not three or four? Was there perhaps some breakdown in their relationship after the birth of Tom? Rachel, the oldest, was terribly fat when she was a girl and quite aggressive in a mercenary way. Every spring she would drag an old dressing table out of the garage and set it up on the sidewalk with a sign saying: FReSH LEMonADE 15¢ . Tom had pneumonia when he was six and nearly died but he recovered and there were no visible complications. The children may have felt rebellious about the conformity of their parents for they were exacting conformists. Two cars? Yes. Did they go to church? Every single Sunday they got to their knees and prayed with ardor. Clothing? They couldn't have been more punctilious in their observance of the sumptuary laws. Book, clubs, local art and music lovers associations, athletics and cards - they were up to their necks in every thing. But if the children were rebellious they concealed their rebellion and seemed happily to love their parents and happily to be loved in return, but perhaps there was in this love the ruefulness of some deep disappointment. Perhaps he was impotent. Perhaps she was frigid — but hardly, with that pallor. Everyone in the community with wandering hands had given them both a fry but they had all been put off. What was the source of this constancy? Were they frightened? Were they prudish? Were they monogamous? What was at the bottom of this appearance of happiness?
As their children grew one might look to them for the worm in the apple. They would be rich, they would inherit Helen's fortune and we might see here, moving over them, the shadow that so often falls upon children who can count on a lifetime of financial security. And anyhow Helen loved her son much too much. She bought him everything he wanted. Driving him to dancing school in his first blue serge suit she was so entranced by the manly figure he cut as he climbed the stairs that she drove the car straight into an elm tree. Such an infatuation was bound to lead to trouble. And if she favored her son she was bound to discriminate against hеr daughter. Listen to her. "Rachel's feet," she says, "are immense, simply immense. I can never get shoes for her." Now perhaps we see the worm. Like most beautiful women she is jealous; she is jealous of her own daughter! She cannot brook competition. She will dress the girl in hideous clothing, having her hair curled in some unbecoming way and keep talking about the size of her feet until the poor girl will refuse to go to the dances or if she is forced to go she will sulk in the ladies' room, staring at her monstrous feet. She will become so wretched and so lonely that in order to express herself she will fall in love with an unstable poet and fly with him to Rome, where they will live out a miserable and a boozy exile. But when the girl enters the room she is pretty and prettily dressed and she smiles at her mother with perfect love. Her feet are quite large, to be sure, but so is her front. Perhaps we should look to the son to find our trouble.
And there is trouble. He fails his junior year in high school and has to repeat and as a result of having to repeat he feels alienated from the members of his class and is put, by chance, at a desk next to Carrie Witchell, who is the most conspicuous dish in Shady Hill. Everyone knows about the Witchells and their pretty, high-spirited daughter. They drink too much and live in one of those frame houses in Maple Dell. The girl is really beautiful and everyone knows how her shrewd old parents are planning to climb out of Maple Dell on the strength of her white, white skin. What a perfect sitiation! They will know about Helen's wealth. In the darkness of their bedroom they will calculate the settlement they can demand and in the malodorous kitchen where they take all their meals they will tell their pretty daughter to let the boy go as far as he wants. But Tom fell out of love with Carrie as swiftly as he fell into it and after that he fell in love with Karen Strawbridge and Susie Morris and Anna Macken and you might think that he was unstable, but in his second year in college he announced his engagement to Elizabeth Trustman and they were married after his graduation and since then he had to serve his time in the army she followed him to his post in Germany, where they studied and learned the language and befriended the people and were a credit to their country.
Rachel's way was not so easy. When she lost her fat she became very pretty and quite fast. She smoked and drank and probably fornicated and the abyss that opens up before a pretty and an intemperate young woman is unfathomable. What, but chance, was there to keep her from ending up as a hostess in a Times Square dance hall? And what would her poor father think, seeing the face of his daughter, her breasts lightly covered with gauze, gazing mutely at him on a rainy morning from one of those show cases? What she did was to fall in love with the son of the Farquarsons' German gardener. He had come with his family to the United States on the Displaced Persons quota after the war. His name was Eric Reiner and to be fair about it he was an exceptional young man who looked on the United States as a truly New World. The Crutchmans must have been sad about Rachel's choice - not to say heartbroken — but they concealed their feelings. The Reiners did not. This hard- working German couple thought the marriage hopeless and improper. At one point the father beat his son over the head with a stick of firewood. But the young couple continued to see each other and presently they eloped. They had to. Rachel was three months pregnant. Eric was then a freshman at Tufts, where he had a scholarship. Helen's money came in handy here and she was able to rent an apartment in Boston for the young couple and pay their expenses. That their first grandchild was premature did not seem to bother the Crutchmans. When Eric graduated from college he got a fellowship at M.I.T. and took his Ph.D. in physics and was taken on as an associate in the department. He could have gone into industry at a higher salary but he liked to teach and Rachel was happy in Cambridge, where they remained.
With their own dear children gone away the Crutchmans might be expected to suffer the celebrated spiritual destitution of their age and their kind — the worm in the apple would at last be laid bare although watching this charming couple as they entertained their friends or read the books they enjoyed one might wonder if the worm was not in the eye of the observer who, through timidity or moral cowardice, could not embrace the broad range of their natural enthusiasms and would not grant that, while Larry played neither Bach nor football very well, his pleasure in both was genuine. You might at least expect to see in them the usual destructiveness of time, but either through luck or as a result of their temperate and healthy lives they had lost neither their teeth nor their hair. The touchstone of their euphoria remained potent, and while Larry gave up the fire truck he could still be seen at the communion rail, the fifty-yard line, the 8:03 and the Chamber Music Club, and through the prudence and shrewdness of Helen's broker they got richer and richer and richer and lived happily, happily, happily, happily.

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.
She showed me her room, isn’t it good, Norwegian wood?
She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,
so I looked around and I noticed there wasn’t a chair.
I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine.
We talked until two and then she said, it’s time for bed.
She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.
I told her I didn’t and crawled off to sleep in the bath.
And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown.
So I lit a fire, isn’t it good, Norwegian wood.

This song really depicts the concept of the book

Наконец то мне вернули мой комп!!!!!!!!! Теперь работает тихо-тихо :)
Чем я занималась это время? В основном читала. С моего последнего появления здесь я прочитала «Анатома» Ф.Андахази и «Норвежский лес» Харуки Мураками. Что я могу сказать о книгах? Первая меня не впечатлила. Я не поняла, почему вокруг нее такой ажиотаж. Да, интересная. Но для меня - пустая. Жизнь человека, который мог бы быть великим ученым своего времени, но … Да и его «Америка» вряд ли была неизвестна ее носительницами. Особенно такого сорта, ради которой он старался. Разве что мужчинам это было полезно узнать ;) и для них это было открытием, тут же запертое за «семью замками». Вобщем еще раз повторюсь, не впечатлило.
«Норвежский лес» Харуки Мураками. Сестра (ей 19) прочитала первой и сказала, что это скучно и ерунда. А мне очень понравилось ее читать. Книга о людях, живых и мертвых. Это история жизни молодого человека конца 60-х годов прошлого века. Первое, что меня поразило, это схожесть стиля, образа жизни молодежи того времени и периода моего 16-ти – 20-тилетия. То ли жизнь не на столько изменилась, то ли она действительно движется по спирали?.. История рассказана от первого лица. Окружающий его мир и окружающих его людей читатель видит его глазами, через призму его восприятия, его философии жизни. Очень интересный стиль автора, словно проживаешь жизнь этого человека. Заставляет подумать о жизни, внимательнее приглядеться к тем, кто тебя окружает. Почитать стоит, думаю, что каждый найдет там что-то для себя.

Мой комп "полетел" Я уезжаю ненадолго, может еще загляну через инет-кафе ( как сейчас) Всем хорошего лета :)

Поражаюсь, как же люди любят совать свой нос в чужую жизнь. У меня тут две соседки бабульки вечно лезут со своими расспросами: а кто приходил, а чего хотел и т.д. Мои родитель так не интересуются, как они. А еще они считают своей прямой обязанностью донести моему отцу, кто и когда ко мне приходил. Иногда даже до смешного доходит. Родители приезжали к нам на субботу и воскресенье, на юбилей города. Папаня встретил друзей и с ними хорошо посидел где-то, пришел в три утра понятно в каком состоянии. Не смог открыть ключом и барабанил в дверь, тк мимо звонка промахивался ;) Так на следующий день, когда отец пошел в магазин за соком, моя соседка рассказывала ему, что ночью ко мне пришел пьяный мужик и всю ночь ломился в дверь (хотя стучал он около 5 минут). И что более всего ее возмутило, я его впустила.
Я до сих пор, как ее увижу, так меня сразу смех разбирает, ничего не могу с собой поделать.

Масштабный праздник. Не смотря на слухи о террактах, пока они остаются только слухами. К великому счастью для нас. Я уже была на открытии поющих фонтанов 30 июня. Стояла у самого края, спасибо Мари, затащила меня к себе. Все было просто потрясающе. Жалко на фотках плохо получилось. 1 июля была на празднике в акватории ск "Юность" Там тоже все было просто супер. Устроители постарались. Смешной момент был, когда выступали военные и что-то взрывали, одна тетка шарик вниз, под ноги опустила и он лопнул, но совпало со взрывом, так народ оттуда ломанулся в разные стороны, за то мне потом удалось встать к самым перилам.

P.S. в фотоальбоме несколько фоток с праздника и несколько моих. Будет пополнение.

Вчера защитили дипломы на отлично (ну не все, но многие и я в том чиле) Потом отметили это дело в "011" . Теперь еще предстоит церемония вручения диплома и гуляние по этому поводу.
Еще я нашла работу. С первого сентября буду преподавать немецкий в КГТУ. Но буду еще искать подработку. Вот такие новости