Women – even geeks like myself – like changing their image from time to time. So the plait you can see in the image below no longer exists.
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The terrible crash that occured between Mark Webber and Heikki Kovalainen will forever remain the most notable – as well as the most terrifying – event to happen during this GP. One car running into another, then flying high, overturning, letting the driver’s helmet touch the ground, coming back to stand on its four wheels, and then finally crashing into a tyre wall – that’s not the kind of event to be easily forgotten! I’ve seen a lot of similar accidents during those years that I’ve been a fan of F1, but every time it happens I feel my blood freeze in my veins.
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One of my earlier posts – describing a club meeting with an American professor – enabled me to establish connection with Ken Stoltzfus. I felt a bit shy about writing to Ken who had never heard about me. A professor in Malone University with Ph.D. in Social Work, Ken, nevertheless, turned out to be a very friendly, approachable person, and soon my initial shyness vanished. We exchanged a few emails, then actually met to agree with Oksana Vladimirovna – the hostess of the club – on the date of the first meeting, and on May 22nd the first of our three club meetings took place.
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My table lamp is casting yellow light on me,
My melancholic thoughts are bittersweet,
And someone’s entering the twilit room
To share this hour with me.
At first I try some mediocre rhymes,
Then touch eternal paths with timid feet,
And then my guest removes her veil, and gloom
Vanishes instantly. We meet,

And I feel joy, but she won’t smile or praise
My amateurish, slightly broken lines;
I’m getting used to her sarcastic face,
Her clear laughter doesn’t hurt.
I drive away my melancholic haze,
The halo of her curly hair shines,
And I admire her unearthly grace
And feel revived and alert.

She’s played her role, and her severity
Has brought new life to my uneven verse,
Electric light fills up my lonely room,
And then she calmly says goodbye,
And all I feel is sweet serenity,
And finding rhymes is no more a curse,
My soul is free from any trace of gloom,
With happy heart I let her fly.

This is the second time I congratulate Lewis Hamilton – his second victory of the season. And it makes him the leader of the championship – wow! Go, Lewis!
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And no, I don’t mean the dance, but the amusement ride by that same name available in our city park.
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That’s the last movie we saw together – Alex, Janna and I. It happened last Sunday. After buying the tickets, we had an hour and a half to wait before the film would begin, so we went to a cafe to eat some ice cream and then took a walk in a nearby park.
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How do I feel when I see pictures of birds soaked in oil? Pictures like the ones you can find here and here – and there are many more available online. The answer is simple – I feel furious. And helpless. And I feel like it’s me – not the bird – who has been subjected to this immense suffering. I feel dirty, humiliated and personally insulted. And guilty.
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