So much could be said, but must not be. So instead, superfically, I will leave you with this conversation (broken Russian) between me and the Russian waiter we took "out" for drinks tonight.
Waiter: Why do you look so sad?
Me: Me? Oh, that's just my face.
We had company visits today--a belabored speech in English about branding in Russia, and a rather funny speech (with an overheated room) about the IT industry in Russia, before, during and after perestroika. Then it was home again, and eventually to the Vodka Museum for dinner, with Maya, Ana, Christine, and Edward. Then to the Sky Bar again, where we bought Sergey (the waiter we stole from the Vodka Museum) some espresso, and looked at his photographs (Nikon D90). Then we had the conversation. I guess I told this story backwards. But there's not much to it. I just started out with the most interesting part (that I can talk about on a blog anyway. the rest goes in the imaginary diary).