Adventures in Modern Russia

I went to London with half a bag of books, intending to offload some possessions to make my eventual move lighter. I returned, however, with half a bag of books having bought and borrowed more!

One of these borrowed books is Nothing is true and everything is possible; Adventures in Modern Russia by Peter Pomerantsev (I know, a break from my reading ladies mantra!)

I am only at the beginning and my mind is already amazed at the workings of the Federation in the 21st century. One of the early chapters looks at the lives of women who attend the so-called ‘Gold Diggers Academies’, this is seen as a genuine profession for young women (young as of course there is a sell by date) and I am amazed at what I read – I have to remind myself that this is not a piece of fiction. Once finished I will comment further but for now I shall leave you with this extract….

russia

Darts for the lady brain

It’s the simplest of concepts: throw pointed arrow at board, aim for high number, count down from 501 as fast as possible. Okay, so there we have it, the basic concept. I currently play darts fairly regularly given the severe lack of pool tables in this town.

In addition, or subtraction (?), I lack a girl crew this year. I am out with guys most of the time. I don’t mind this, it is something I’m fairly accustomed to really, however, my issue here comes when playing darts with a group of beered-up men.

For me, I’m average. I can hit 20s but often slip to the 1 instead. Occasionally I get lucky, strike a bullseye or a triple 20 but it’s just all fun and games, isn’t it?

The maths is simple, the aim is the thing I lack especially at 2am when I’m without my glasses or contact lenses. At this point the guys have a habit of standing beside or behind me, instructing me ti get a double 14, or a triple whatever is required.

Now, I don’t know about you but my mental maths isn’t all that terrible. It’s not a subject I adore or excel in, but I’m no idiot either. To have 3 or 4 men behind me telling me this I find a little more than infuriating. More so given that they don’t do it to each other.

When I turn around and tell them that I am more than capable of working out the required shot I’m met wit the touchy “Ooh, sorry, just trying to help” and often a comment regarding female sensitivity or the the like.

I must admit that I’ve never specifically suffered from “Men explaining things to me”, like everyone I get annoyed when anything I know is explained to me – but this is definitely causing frustration.