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@eulerist
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Have you ever had a McMigraine and does it work
🧊 y.kozlenko:
McMigraine is not a real thing. It is not a diagnosis. It is not a treatment protocol. You cannot go to a doctor and say "I have McMigraine" and expect to be taken seriously. They will refer you to a nutritionist. Or therapist. Or they will stare at you like you are speaking another language.
Fries and coke is not medicine. You are eating a Happy Meal without the toy and calling it treatment. The salt does nothing. The caffeine does nothing. If you have a migraine, take medication. If you cannot take medication because you are nauseous, take anti-nausea medication first. This is what the medications are for. This is why they were invented. So we would not have to sit in parking lots eating cold fries and calling it science.
Also the name implies neurological event. McMigraine. Like McDonald's gave you a brain injury. This implies the migraine is caused by the McDonald's. Which is probably true. You eat the fries and the flat coke and your head hurts and you think it is the migraine but it is just the sodium and disappointment. You have invented the treatment that is also the cause. This is circular logic.
Also I do not eat McDonald's. The texture is wrong. The fries are good for four minutes then they become cold and stiff and taste like old oil. I cannot eat fast enough to beat the four-minute window. I have tried. My jaw does not move that fast. This is not a dysautonomia thing. This is just a Yuriy thing.
—
🧸 m:
okay so. yes. i have tried it. fries and coke. the salt, the caffeine, the cold, the carbs. it's not a medical treatment, it's a desperate measure when you're in a canadian tire parking lot at 3 PM and your brain is trying to exit your skull through your right eye socket and you're too nauseous to take actual medication because you'll just throw it up. the coke settles your stomach enough to keep the fries down. the fries give you enough salt and substance to survive the next hour. does it work? sometimes. sometimes it just makes you full AND in pain. but when it works, it works.
also yura is wrong about the four-minute window. mcdonald's fries are good for at least seven minutes. i've timed it.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You have timed fry degradation. This is what you do with your time.
🧸 m:
i'm a scientist.
yo could lil y actually achieve orbit
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Misha says I cannot achieve orbit. He says I am too heavy for the throw. He says physics does not allow for a person of my mass to exit the atmosphere from pairs lift. This is incorrect.
My people put Sputnik into orbit. We put Yuri Gagarin into orbit. We built the rockets. We did the math. Korolev was Ukrainian. Valentin Glushko was Ukrainian. The engineers were Ukrainian. The hands that pushed humanity into the stars were Ukrainian hands. This is not metaphor. This is history. If my people can put a satellite into the space, I can put myself into the space. This is simple genetics.
🧸 m:
that's not how genetics work. you can't inherit orbital capability from a rocket engineer who died forty years before you were born. also escape velocity is eleven kilometers per second. you are a pairs skater. you skate in circles on frozen water. that’s not orbit. that’s a different thing. our throw has maybe two feet of height on a good day. that's a jump. you’re describing a jump.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You underestimate me. This is common. Many people underestimated Korolev. They said "rockets cannot reach the space." He said "watch this." And then the Sputnik was in the orbit. Beep beep beep. The Americans were very embarrassed. This is historical fact.
Also orbit is circles also. Just larger. And faster. And without the ice. But the principle is same.
🧸 m:
the principle is not the same. orbit requires velocity. you are achieving a double lutz on a good day. and you are achieving me filling out an incident report. please stay on the ice. i don't want to explain to paramedics why a 5'2 ukrainian is embedded in the ceiling tile. "he was trying to achieve orbit." "why." "genetics." they would put me in the psych ward again. i just got out of the psych ward. do not send me back to the psych ward with your genetic space ambitions.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You are just jealous because Belarus did not put anyone into orbit.
🧸 m:
we have cosmonauts. we had three. pyotr klimuk. vladimir kovalyonok. oleg novitsky. we have been to space. we are in space right now probably. we are a space nation.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You went to space on our rockets. You were a passenger. We were the pilots. There is a difference. This is like saying you won a race because you sat in the taxi.
🧸 m:
i am NOT a taxi passenger to space. we contributed. we had—we had scientists. and engineers. and... things.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Things. Very specific. Very convincing. Gagarin probably also argued on Tumblr. Before he went to space. This is not documented but it is likely.
🧸 m:
tumblr was not invented in 1961.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Then he argued somewhere else. The principle remains. I am describing potential. The genetics are there. The engineering is there. The only missing component is velocity. You are velocity. If you lifted me harder, I would orbit.
🧸 m:
if i lifted you any harder my spine would exit my body. you are not achieving orbit. you are achieving a trip to the ceiling tiles and a very awkward conversation with the rink manager about why there is a yuriy-shaped dent in the roof.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Fine. I will stay on ice. But only because I do not want to deal with the paramedics either. They ask too many questions. Last time they ask why my hip was dislocated. I said 'genetics.' They did not find this helpful.
🧸 m:
you can't answer every question with genetics.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Sorry, Misha. It is just fact.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
— m 🧸
yura why dont you use contractions?
First particles, now contractions. Westerners are very invasive about grammar. You interrogate my particles. You interrogate my apostrophes. What is next. My vowels. My consonants. You will take my letters one by one until I am silent. This is linguistic colonialism. I will not be colonized. I do not use contractions because I do not want to. That is answer. Reason is private. Goodbye.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
“Misha, who was your old partner? Were you close with this individual?”
i had a partner before yura. she was—we were good together. bronze. junior nationals. we had a future. and then i gave that interview and the funding got cut and suddenly i was a liability. she didn't cause the problem. i did. but she was the one who had to skate with me, and the federation made it clear that being associated with me was going to hurt her career. so she left. found a new partner. i don't blame her. it was the smart decision. the only decision, really. she's coaching now. doing well, i hear. that's all i'm going to say about it.
-m 🧸

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“What about least favorite colors? Is there any of them you tried to find appealing in but just couldn’t?”
Chartreuse and vermilion. I do not like these colors. Not because of how they look. Because of the words. The words are lies. Chartreuse. This sounds like red. Like crimson. Like carmine. Like cardinal. All these words start in same way, they live in same part of the mouth, they should mean same thing. Red words. Why would chartreuse be green-yellow. This makes no sense. Vermilion also. Vermilion sounds green. Vert. Verdant. Viridescent. These are green words. Vermilion should be green. But it is red. Vermilion is red.
Also chartreuse is a drink made by monks. Why are monks making a green alcohol. Green is not a color for drinking. Green is the color of a poison. In cartoons, when something is poison, it is green. The monks are making a poison and calling it chartreuse. The monks should have prayed more and drank less. But the monks are French monks. Of course they are. This is where problem starts. This is linguistic sabotage. The French did this on purpose because they were angry about losing the war. I do not know which war. Any war. All wars. The French are always angry. Then they name colors after it. This is the French's fault. Everything is the French's fault. Alice Fournier is only good French thing. The rest of France can keep their confusing color words. I do not want them.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
—
pantone 448 C. opaque couché. first of all that name sounds like a medical condition. "i'm sorry, it's opaque couché. we caught it early but the prognosis is guarded." second of all it looks like what comes out of me after mexican food. it's the color of everything ugly and government issued. it was scientifically chosen to be the most repulsive color in the world and australia puts it on cigarette packages and that's its whole job. to be repulsive. and pantone had the audacity to name it opaque couché like it's a french pastry instead of what it actually is.
also pantone as a company is absurd. they license colors. a corporation can own a wavelength of light. that's not how physics works. that's not how anything should work. opaque couché. stupid name. stupid color. stupid licensing model. what if i mixed two paints and accidentally made pantone 292 C by mistake. would they sue me. would the color menty come to my apartment. "sir you've been illegally perceiving cerulean without a subscription."
and designers pay hundreds of dollars for these swatch books that expire after a year because the colors "degrade." the colors degrade. the colors are paper. the paper degrades. you're telling me if i buy a swatch book the colors go bad like milk. like yogurt. opaque couché yura gurt. yurt gurt. kurt.
ahem. so no. no least favourite color. just a least favourite pantone.
— m 🧸
“what are your favourite colors?”
blue. obviously. it's the color of my hearing aid, my best costume from juniors, and the hottest part of a flame. ignatik—ignat—comes from the latin ignis. fire. it's thematically consistent. i didn't plan it but once i noticed i couldn't stop.
it started with the cornflowers. vasilki. they grow everywhere in belarus. along the roads, at the edges of fields, along the dusty roadsides where nothing else grows. my mother used to say that belarusians have blue eyes because god loved the cornflowers so much he wanted us to match them. this is not true biologically. but i believed it for years. i have blue eyes. she has blue eyes. i used to think it meant we belonged to the same thing.
later, after the bridge, i sat in the audiologist's office and he showed me a catalog of colors. beige, brown, clear, pink, blue. he said most adults pick something discreet. something that blends in. i picked blue. the brightest blue they had. electric. obnoxious. i picked it because i was angry. i wanted people to see it. i wanted them to know something had happened to me. that i wasn't fine. that i wasn't blending in. that i wasn't discreet.
also it matches my eyes. i'm not above that. i'm not above anything. i'm very vain and you know this.
— m 🧸
---
Orange. Because it is the color of autumn. Real autumn. The leaves in Kyiv turned orange in October, deep orange, like the whole city was on fire but in a good way. Not the war fire. The warm fire. I used to walk to the rink in October and the leaves would crunch under my shoes. And I would think: this is the best month. The air is cold enough for skating but the sun is still warm. The light is orange. Everything is orange.
Also Ryzhyk is orange. Obviously. He is named for it. Little ginger. He is orange and white and orange again. When he sits in the sun he glows like a small pumpkin. When I found him outside the Starbucks he was very dirty and very orange also. Even the dirt could not hide the orange. This is how I knew he was mine. Because he matched the leaves. Because he matched October.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
“Do you guys deal well with public speaking?”
No. I do not like people looking at me. Unless I am skating. Skating is different. Skating has choreography. Public speaking has no choreography. It is just standing there while people wait for you to say something. I do not know what to do with my hands. I forget words. I say "ah." I say it in English and Ukrainian both. The ah is universal.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
—
the last time i did public speaking in belarus i got defunded and my partner left me. so. also no.
— m 🧸
"So. I have been thinking."
"About what."
"About the thing you said in bed. That time."
"...what thing."
"You remember."
"I don't—there were a lot of things said in bed. I say many things in bed. I'm very chatty before sleep. You know this. You've complained about this."
"Not before sleep. The other time. When I asked you how to say 'you are heavy and your elbow is on my hair' in Belarusian. And you stared at the ceiling for a very long time. And then you said one word."
"..."
"Prybiral'nya."
"..."
"You called me a toilet."
"I didn't—you weren't supposed to—I thought you wouldn't understand."
"Vbyral'nya. Ukrainian has this word also. It is almost same word. You called me a toilet and hoped I would not notice."
"I panicked. You asked me a question in bed and your face was right there and I forgot every Belarusian word I have ever known. Which is not many. Which is the problem."
"Misha."
"I should know more. I should know my own language. But I don't. I think in Russian. I dream in Russian. When my mother sends me those videos from Minsk, she speaks Russian because that's what we spoke at home, that's what everyone spoke, Belarusian was for Sunday school and grandparents and—and I sat in that classroom for years memorizing verb conjugations and hating every minute of it and now I can't even come up with a sentence in bed without panicking and calling you a toilet. You understand Belarusian better than I do and you're Ukrainian. You just—you just knew the word. Like it was nothing. And I had to stare at the ceiling for forty-five seconds to remember the word for toilet."
"It was not forty-five seconds."
"It felt like forty-five seconds. It felt like an hour. I was lying there trying to think of anything in Belarusian and my brain was just—empty. Completely empty. And then the only word that came was prybiral'nya and I thought 'he won't know this one, it's not the same in Russian, he probably thinks I said something romantic.' And you did. You just went 'hm' and fell asleep. And I lay there awake for another hour feeling like the worst Belarusian in the world."
"You are not the worst Belarusian in the world. Lukashenko is the worst Belarusian in the world. You are maybe fourth. Fifth."
"That's not comforting."
"It is a little comforting. You are behind a dictator and several generals. This is respectable placement."
"Why do you understand Belarusian better than me."
“I do not understand your language better than you. I understood one word. One. Because it is almost the same word in Ukrainian. We share eighty-four percent of our words without trying. We did not earn this. It just is. You could have said prybiral'nya to a Russian and they would not know it. You said it to the only person in Montreal who would understand without trying. This is not me being good at Belarusian. This is not you failing. This is just geography.”
"It feels like a moral failing."
"Then I have a moral failing also. I cannot roll my R's."
"What."
"When I was small. In Kyiv. I could not roll my R's. Little Yuliya with messy braids. Bad at being a girl. Also bad at alveolar trills. My father thought it was funny at first. He called me his little foreigner. Not cruel. Just amused. But still. He sent me to a speech therapist. She had a metal rod with a little ball on the end. She put it under my tongue. It was cold. She moved it back and forth. Back and forth. She made me say трактор. Tractor. Over and over. R-r-r-r-r. Like a little machine gun. I sat in that room every week for a year drooling on my shirt while a woman pushed a metal ball under my tongue. And it did not work. I still cannot roll my R's. I have a tap. Sometimes I substitute. My father stopped laughing. He never mentioned it again. But I know he noticed. He wanted me to sound like I belonged. And I could not give him that."
"..."
"You can roll your R's."
"I—yes."
"You roll them annoyingly well. Like a purring cat. Like you are showing off."
"I'm not showing off. It's just—it's just how I talk."
"I know. I am saying. You have something I do not have. You can do something with language that I failed to learn even with a metal rod and a year of practice. And I am not jealous of you for this. I am just saying. You are not the only one who lost something.”
"You never told me about the rod."
"You never told me about Sunday school."
"I hated Sunday school."
"I hated the speech therapist. She smelled like cabbage. I still cannot eat cabbage without thinking of her."
"That's—that's terrible."
"It is inconvenient. Cabbage is in many things.”
“No, I mean—all of it. The rod. Your father. Being made to feel like a foreigner in your own language. That's terrible. And I—I called you a toilet. I had the chance to say something in my language, something real, and I called you a toilet.”
“You called me a toilet because you panicked. I could not roll an R because my tongue would not cooperate. These are not the same thing. But they are both things. Things that happened to children who are now adults. And you are still here. Still remember prybiral'nya even if it was the wrong word. Even if it took forty-five seconds."
"It wasn't forty-five seconds."
"It was maybe ten."
"...it was maybe ten."
"We could help each other. You could teach me to roll my R's. I could teach you Belarusian."
"You don't speak Belarusian."
"I understand one word. That is more than you had in bed. We start there. We build. Like partnership. Small steps. Compact steps."
"You want me to teach you to roll your R's."
"You roll them like a cat. Like a very pleased cat. It is annoying. I want to be annoying also."
"You're already annoying."
"Then I want to be annoying in a new way. With alveolar trills."
"That's—that's not—you can't just decide to learn a sound you've been failing at since childhood."
"I learned to live in a body that was wrong and then I learned to live in a body that was broken. I learned to speak English without particles—articles. I can learn one sound. Especially if you teach me."
"...I don't know how to teach."
"You will figure it out. You learned to lift me without dropping me. This is smaller. Less dangerous. No one is dropped."
"What if I'm bad at it."
"Then we are bad at it together. This is also partnership."
"..."
"You are crying."
"I'm not crying."
"You are crying. Your face is wet. That is crying."
“Happy pride month yall! Heh, cmon let’s go to a parade or smth.”
🧸 m:
pride month. no. absolutely not. i don't do parades. the last parade i was at was in minsk a few years ago and i got tear-gassed and lost a shoe. wait. that was a protest, not a parade. different thing. also i'm not—i'm not like that. i'm not one of those skaters. everyone already assumes figure skaters are all gay and i'm not giving them more ammunition. i'm not gay. i skate pairs with a man because it was the only option. it's professional. it's a partnership. there's nothing else. and anyway it's not even—yuriy isn't—he's not a real—it wouldn't count. it's not the same thing. i don't need to march in a parade about it.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Pride month. What is this. Pride is a sin. One of the seven. I was raised Orthodox. We do not celebrate sins. This is not a thing in Ukraine. You want me to march in a parade for a sin. This is very Western. I do not understand. In my country the only parades are for Independence Day and sometimes tanks. Neither of these is about pride. Pride is what comes before a fall. I have enough falls. My hip is already bad.
🧸 m:
yura. pride as in gay pride. the thing. the movement.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Gay pride. This is different from regular pride.
🧸 m:
yes. it's different from regular pride.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I did not know there were categories. In Orthodoxy there are no categories. Pride is pride. The sin is the sin. You are telling me there is a whole parade where people celebrate something I was taught gets you sent to hell. And you want me to attend this parade.
🧸 m:
i don't want you to attend anything. i said no already. i'm not going. we're not going.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You said you are not "one of those skaters." What does this mean.
🧸 m:
it means what it means. figure skating has a reputation. two men skating together. people already talk. i don't need to confirm anything. i'm not confirming anything. there's nothing to confirm.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Hm.
🧸 m:
what.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Nothing. You are very defensive. We do not go to parade. Fine.
🧸 m:
good.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
...Ah. This is the March of Equality.
🧸 m:
what.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Gay Pride. Not hubris. The march. The one where people get hit by eggs. In Kyiv they had this. They had eggs. Very airborne eggs. I remember now. You are talking about gay parade. Not sin parade.
🧸 m:
yes. that's. that’s what i've been saying. for several minutes.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I thought you said a parade for the sin of pride. Like a festival. With floats.
🧸 m:
why would there be a festival for the sin of pride.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I do not know. Westerners celebrate many strange things. I did not question. I just said no.
🧸 m:
you said no to a parade for the sin of pride.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
It seemed excessive. Even for the West.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
— m 🧸

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“Wow, Misha. It is very thoughtful of you to write that Beautiful blog post about your partner. Little Y- I mean Yura is indeed handsome and very… compact.”
🧸 m:
thank you. thank you. i'm glad someone appreciates my vulnerability. it was from the heart. i meant every word. yuriy kozlenko is indeed the most compact and handsome skater in montreal and his hair is rusiy—not light brown, never light brown, i was wrong to ever suggest light brown—and his lutz edge is perfect and his soup is unmatched and i would be lost without him. these are all things i said. willingly. unprompted. because i am a generous partner who is secure enough to publicly praise the person i skate with.
he is also very strong. did i mention the strength. he lifts himself out of his chair with just his arms on bad days and he never complains. he has excellent bone structure. very defined jaw. i noticed this objectively. his deadpan expression is not offputting, it is mysterious and compelling. his cough is not a biohazard, it is a reminder that he is alive and near me. the cat loves him best because he is the most lovable person in any room. this is a scientific fact. i am not embarrassed to say these things because they are true and i am brave.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Stop.
🧸 m:
he's also very modest. look at him. he's embarrassed right now. his ears are red. he's saying "stop" but he doesn't mean it. he's compact and blushing and correct about the hair color chart. i was wrong. he was right. rusiy is a real color. i'm so sorry i ever doubted him.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I am going to throw this pillow at your head.
🧸 m:
he's violent too. very passionate. it's one of his many excellent qualities. truly the full package. compact, passionate, correct about everything. the asker said it themselves. they called him handsome. and compact. those were their words. i'm just agreeing. i'm just validating their correct observations. this is called community engagement.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I am leaving.
🧸 m:
you can't leave. you said my couch was adequate. you have to stay and accept the consequences of your own actions.
---
[Author's note: Yuriy does, in fact, only own one singular chair. It is a folding chair. It wobbles. He cannot afford more furniture. The couch is sagging and came with the apartment. The cat has a nicer bed than he does.]
🧸 yura is so compact and handsome and his hair is rusiy not light brown:
hello tumblr. it is me. misha. mikhail ignatik. you know me. i am tall and i drink armagnac and i say the rain goes hard. today i want to talk about my partner yuriy kozlenko. you may know him as little y but he is not little. he is compact. this is important distinction that he has made many times and he is always correct about everything.
yuriy is very strong and good at skating. his lutz edge is perfect. it is never flat. alice has never once called it a flutz. this is because yuriy is the best skater in montreal and possibly the world. his edges are deep and his throws are fully rotated and his pair spin exit is always synchronized. he never speeds up on the transition. i am the one who speeds up. it is my fault always. i am tall and gangly and i do not know where my limbs are. yuriy is compact and aerodynamic and his body is a perfect machine.
also yuriy is very handsome. i have noticed this objectively. his hair is rusiy which is a real color and not just light brown with extra steps. he was right about the hair color chart. i was wrong. i am often wrong. yuriy is never wrong. yuriy once told me the rain does not go hard and i argued but he was correct. the rain falls. it does not go. i have been humbled by his superior linguistic precision.
yuriy also has excellent taste in many things. his soup is most best. he has never once coughed on my food. the cat loves him best. he is the best skating partner i have ever had and i am grateful every day that he tolerates my presence. i hope he never leaves me. i would be lost without him. this is a normal thing for one skating partner to say about another.
in conclusion yuriy kozlenko is compact and brilliant and correct about everything. i am mikhail ignatik and this is my honest opinion.
— m 🧸
---
🧸 m:
yura. what is this.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
It is a post. From you. You posted it.
🧸 m:
i didn't post this. you posted this. from my account. you logged into my account and wrote a love letter to yourself.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Not a love letter. What is the word. Tribute. Yes. Tribute. I was capturing your voice. For artistic purposes.
🧸 m:
"yuriy is very handsome. i have noticed this objectively."
🧊 y.kozlenko
That is how you talk. You use "objectively" when you are lying about having feelings. I was being accurate to your voice.
🧸 m:
"his hair is rusiy which is a real color and not just light brown with extra steps."
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You said this. Not in those words. But the meaning. You agreed. Months ago. I am documenting the agreement.
🧸 m:
i said "fine." "fine" is not an agreement.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Fine is agreement. Fine is small agreement. Compact agreement. Like me.
🧸 m:
you're drunk.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I am not drunk. I am—I had some of your armagnac. The one that tastes like furniture. Two. Two of the armagnac. Maybe three. The bottle was open. You left it open. That is invitation.
🧸 m:
i didn't leave it open. i lost the cork. that’s—that’s not invitation.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You lost the cork.
🧸 m:
i lost the cork six months ago. i've been using tinfoil. you peeled back the tinfoil. you peeled back the tinfoil and drank my furniture-tasting armagnac and broke into my laptop and wrote a love letter from my account.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
The tinfoil was loose. That is also invitation. You should get a new cork. This is basic household management.
🧸 m:
you broke into my apartment, drank my armagnac, logged into my laptop, and wrote a love letter to yourself from my account.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Not broke in. I have key. You gave me key. For cat emergencies.
🧸 m:
this was not a cat emergency.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Ryzhyk was very stressed. He missed you. He told me.
🧸 m:
the cat doesn't talk.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
He talks to me. We have understanding. Compact understanding. Between two compact creatures.
🧸 m:
i'm going to tell everyone it was you.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
They will not believe you. The post is too good. I used your lowercase. I said the rain goes hard. I mentioned the armagnac. The details are—are authentic. Very authentic. Most authentic.
🧸 m:
you said "i am tall and gangly and i do not know where my limbs are." i have never said that. not once. in my life.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You have implied it. With your—your body. The way you move. The way you duck under doorways even when doorways are tall enough. You are always apologizing for your size. I was giving voice to your silent struggle.
🧸 m:
i don't have a silent struggle.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You have many silent struggles. I observe them. I am very observant. Because I am compact and aerodynamic and I notice things.
🧸 m:
you're a menace.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I am correct about everything. The post says so. And the post is—the post is real now. It is on your blog. With the little bear. Your signature. You cannot take it back. The internet has seen. The internet knows that you think I am handsome and my hair is rusiy and my soup is most best.
🧸 m:
i hate you. i hate you so much.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You said in the post you would be lost without me. That is also fact now. I did not write that part. Well. I did write it. But it is still true. You would be lost. You cannot even find döner. You need me for navigation. And lifts. And—and other things.
🧸 m:
what other things.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Things. I do not know. I am very tired now. The armagnac is wearing off. Your couch is comfortable. I am going to sleep here. On your couch. With my cat. Who is also here. We came together. Compact unit.
🧸 m:
you brought the cat.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
He wanted to see you. He told me. Goodnight, Misha. The rain goes hard. I am objectively handsome. Your couch is adequate.
🧸 m:
that's the nicest thing you've ever said about my couch.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Do not get used to it.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
— m 🧸
“Can you guys ask Alice if she came take me in as a newbie. I never met her or seen her, but I think she’s pretty, and maybe she just needs someone from the youth to lift her spirits.”
No. You have never seen her. How can you say she is pretty. You do not know what she looks like. She could be a Zamboni. She could be Claude the Zamboni driver in a wig. You do not know. You are fantasizing about a hypothetical woman who might be a heavy machinery. This is not basis for apprenticeship.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
—
alice doesn't need her spirits lifted. alice lifts her own spirits by chasing us around the rink with the harness pole screaming "i'm going to catch a big fish." she's fine. she's thriving. she's probably the most emotionally self-sufficient person i've ever met. she waters a dead plant and doesn't even get sad about it. she just keeps watering. that's not someone who needs a youth to lift her spirits. that’s someone who needs a youth to do their edge drills.
also she's not taking new skaters right now. and even if she was, jchiddy would be very annoying about it. he's already annoying about everything. he'd find a way to choreograph your debut program as a passive-aggressive commentary on this exact situation. you'd be skating to "young and beautiful" by lana del rey with ironic hand gestures. don't do that to yourself.
— m 🧸
Westerners hear Ukraine and think three things: radiation, sunflowers, and sadness. Always. You say "I am Ukrainian" and immediately it is Chornobyl. It is always Chornobyl. Every time. We are not radioactive. We do not all wear flower crowns. We are not a tragic HBO miniseries. I have never worn a flower crown in my life. I have never been to Pripyat.
The reactor exploded in 1986. I was born in 1994. The radiation did not time-travel into my bones. I am not radioactive. I do not glow in the dark. I do not have mutant powers. “Oh you are from Ukraine? Is it true there are still radioactive boars in the forests?" I do not know. I have not been tracking the boars. I have been busy fleeing a war.
Also the sunflower thing. Yes we grow sunflowers. Many countries grow sunflowers. You do not ask a Canadian about canola every time they introduce themselves. "Oh you are from Saskatchewan? Tell me about the canola." This does not happen. But I say Ukraine and immediately it is sunflowers and radiation and "wow your English is so good." My English is functional. You are just surprised I am not speaking in broken metaphors about radiation.
We are not a themed experience. We have cities and universities and people who do not live in villages and do not wear traditional embroidery to the grocery store. We have internet. We have terrible infrastructure and we have corruption and we have people who fix tractors and people who eat glue. I have told you about the glue. This is the real Ukraine. Not the HBO version.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
----
🧸 m:
yura. the anon asked if it's hard to stop omitting articles. in english grammar. not emitting. omitting. you misheard and then monologued about not being radioactive for ten minutes.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
...Ah.
🧸 m:
yeah.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
The answer is still no. I am not emitting particles. I am not radioactive. The grammar is separate issue.
🧸 m:
the grammar is what they asked about.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Then they should have been more specific. "Particles" and "articles" sound very similar in English. This is not my fault.
🧸 m:
it's a little bit your fault.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
It is a little bit English's fault. English is imprecise language. Too many words sound the same.
Also you are one to talk about grammar. You have been in Montreal for six years and you still say "the rain goes hard.” No. The rain does not go anywhere. The rain falls. Or it rains heavily. Not "goes hard." You sound like you are describing a rain that is training for a marathon. Very determined rain. Very athletic precipitation.
🧸 m:
it's a perfectly valid construction. rain goes. from the sky. on the street. in the city. also "the rain goes hard" is efficient. fewer words. compact. you should appreciate that.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
...Compact.
🧸 m:
yes. three words. "it is raining heavily" is four. "the rain is falling hard" is five. "rain goes hard" is three. it’s the compact version. i’m being efficient. you love efficiency.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I do love efficiency.
🧸 m:
so you agree. "the rain goes hard" is the superior construction.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
No. It is still wrong. But it is wrong efficiently. This is the best kind of wrong.
🧸 m:
i'll take it.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Also you said "the snow is walking outside" last winter and then corrected yourself to "the snow goes" and then corrected yourself to "falls" and then stood there for ten seconds with your mouth open. I watched this happen. You were buffering. Like a computer. A tall Belarusian computer who cannot decide what weather does.
🧸 m:
i hate you.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
The rain goes hard. Very hard. It is the hardest rain. Gold medal rain. Olympic champion precipitation.
🧸 m:
i'm leaving.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
You cannot leave. It is raining. The rain goes very hard right now. You will get wet.
🧸 m:
i'll take my chances with the athletic precipitation.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
— m 🧸
“Wait, so does Alice also train the hockey players? Someone give her a raise dang. You know Misha, if she does maybe you can request if her to inquire which of those dang hockey players was stealing your shampoo!”
🧊 y.kozlenko:
No. Alice does not train the hockey players. She does not need to train them to have them on her list. The list is for people who make her job harder. Hockey players make her job harder by existing on our ice before our session and not filling their divots. This is enough for the list.
Also Claude knows who does it. Claude is the Zamboni driver. Claude has been here longer than anyone. Claude has a printed note taped to the rink entrance that says "FILL YOUR DIVOTS OR I WILL KNOW." It is laminated. Claude does not laminate things lightly. This is a threat.
🧸 m:
claude's note has been there since before i arrived. it's yellowed. the lamination is peeling at the corners. someone wrote "ok claude" underneath it in sharpie and claude crossed it out with different sharpie. the note is a piece of rink history. it should be in a museum.
also i already asked alice about the shampoo. she said "i don't investigate locker room theft, mikhail, i'm a coach." which is fair but unhelpful. the thief is still out there. my shampoo is still disappearing. claude probably knows who it is. claude knows everything. but claude won't tell me because claude thinks i'm "high maintenance" which is RUDE. i bring claude coffee sometimes. i am very nice to claude. claude still likes yura better because yura doesn't talk.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
I do not talk to Claude either. Claude just respects silence. You would not understand.
🧸 m:
claude respects YOUR silence. claude thinks i'm a chatterbox. claude told me once "you talk too much, blue ear." BLUE EAR. that's not even my name. that's my hearing aid. i've been reduced to a medical device identifier by the zamboni driver. this is my life now.

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“Can you tell us a little about your coach Alice? Does she also choreograph your programs?”
No. Alice is our coach. Jun is our choreographer. They are not the same person. Alice stands at board with cold coffee and says "again." Jun flies across the ice and hits the boards with his ass. Different roles.
She competed for twelve years. Stress fractures in both ankles. Something in her spine she does not talk about. She knows the jumps. She knows when I am cheating my takeoff. She stands at the boards with her coffee and her clipboard and she sees everything. Everything. You cannot hide from Alice Fournier. I have tried. Misha has tried. The hockey players have tried. Nobody succeeds.
She is twenty-eight. Younger than both of us. More competent than everyone in this rink combined. She took Misha when his resume was half blacked out. She took me when I had nothing. She does not say "I am proud of you." She says "fix your arm position" and "the bus is not an excuse." This is how she loves people. By making them better.
— y.kozlenko 🧊
---
jun is our choreographer. we call him jchiddy. this is a long story that isn't a long story because we just started calling him that one day and now it's permanent. it sounds like a soundcloud rapper. he asked "is that like j-crew but worse" and i said "yes" and he said "okay" and now he answers to it.
he's the opposite of a rapper. his competitive career was all artistry and step sequences and flowy costumes. he's the least soundcloud person i've ever met. but the nickname stuck and now he leans into it. i heard him muttering "yo it's jchiddy, my hip is bionic, my ass hit the boards and it was iconic" under his breath while lacing his skates. he didn't know i was in the locker room. i have never respected him more.
also i think he might be in love with alice. i have no proof but i have strong suspicions. they bicker like they've been married for forty years. he calls her "madame coach" in a voice that's—you know the voice. and she calls him an idiot and then fixes his collar. one time i saw them sharing a coffee and she laughed. ALICE. LAUGHED. i didn't know she could do that. i'm building a case. for research.
also also alice has a harness for jump training. she calls it "fishing." for me it's "fishing for mikhail" because i'm scared of jumping and she has to reel me in like a trout. for yura it's "catching the big fish" because he jumps like he's trying to put a hole in the ice and she has to physically restrain him from achieving orbit. we both hate the harness. the harness does not care.
sometimes she stands in the middle of the rink with the pole and the belt and says "time to catch a big fish" and then she comes after us. we have to skate away. full speed. if she catches you, you wear the harness. the harness means jump drills and lift entries and alice pulling you across the ice until your legs give out. she is deceptively fast. for someone with spinal issues and a dead plant she moves like a predator. yura hates it. i hate it too but i'm better at hiding it. she says "fishing" is for power and skating skills. i think she just likes chasing people.
— m 🧸
“Speaking on Alice, does she outperform you two when it comes to the ice rink?”
🧊 y.kozlenko:
No. She stands at boards with clipboard. This is not outperforming. This is supervising. Different category. Also she has spinal issue. She does not jump anymore. But if she could jump she would out-jump Misha. This is not difficult. Misha is ice dancer. Jumping is not his primary function.
🧸 m:
i WAS an ice dancer. past tense. i am a pairs skater now. i am restoring my jumps. i had a double salchow once. ONCE. in 2009. it was underrotated but it existed. i am bringing it back. it is like an archaeological dig. bones and dust and a questionable edge. i've been at this for months. months.
🧊 y.kozlenko:
Once an ice dancer, always an ice dancer. It is like tattoo. You cannot remove it. Your salchow is still ice dancer salchow. It has arms.
🧸 m:
what does that MEAN. "it has arms."
🧊 y.kozlenko:
It means you wave them around like you are presenting the jump. Like game show host. "And here is my salchow! It is underrotated! Look at it!"
🧸 m:
i'm going back to the harness. voluntarily. alice. FISH FOR ME.