An unbelievably good day -- or rather evening. Feeling almost as happy as on my birthday; maybe because once again I am so, so sleepy. Have been to Serbian Culture; chat with S.U. and Zh.; then went to have a sandwich and a Serov experience; too many people so I cancelled the second part; went to Leninka and there met SO many people I know! Ar., two girls from folklore practice, N.K. and my ex-teacher of Culture in 1514 who, curiously, studies Serbian Culture with me. What was especially amazing and Chestertonian (in one of his novels all the heroes gather in a single place) is that all these encounters were squeezed in less than half an hour. I said bye to Ar., than in 2-3 minutes met the girls, next minute met N.K.
And one of the reading halls, so weird. Both stuffy and cold, dark and with little lamps above people's desks, and Kremlin wall just outside. And when I got out -- a wonderful blizzard and a white Christmas tree, seen through the narrow passage (they are renovating the columns). Then I had  a stroll to the Red Square and saw Saint Basil's miraculously appear.
Snow on fur hats. Manezh. Zhivago...

"Life is not a bed of roses". I love this disappointed English expression, maybe because I can imagine an actual bed of roses, maybe because it is such a beautiful image to have in your mind when you feel that life is a cruel and an awful experience. They just didn't tell you that when you were a kid.