1. I lived in Moscow when the Chernobyl nuclear disaster happened. My mother happened to be out of the country leaving my sisters and me in the care of my Dad who was working around the clock to report on this unprecedented story. I think our housekeeper came to take care of us….and I remember there being a lot of talk about nuclear clouds and where we could get our food from going forward. There was a change in the winds and fortunately for us, the cloud changed course. However, I still wonder if there still might not be health repercussions on down the road for us.

2. In that vein of disaster, my whole family was supposed to be on Pan Am Flight 103 that blew up over Lockerbie, Scotland. Apparently the US government had issued a warning for its diplomats that American airlines' flights out of Frankfurt were being targeted by terrorists. We were not diplomats so didn’t get the memo, but a friend of my mother’s who worked in the US Embassy travel office in Moscow, told her of the threats knowing we were booked to travel that way. We changed our flights and I’ll never forget waking up in the US that December morning and turning on the news only to see the debris of the plane all over the barren Scottish landscape. It could have very easily been us.

3. When we lived in Moscow I took ballet lessons religiously. Lived for the end of class when we’d do pirouettes across the parquet floors. The live pianist was a balm for my soul and Igor, the instructor and former Bolshoi dancer himself, was the most elegant and disciplined instructor. When we moved to Washington DC in the middle of 6th grade I continued my studies at the Washington School of Ballet, but quickly my body decided it was going to change and I couldn’t stand to watch my once lithe figure transform in the mirrors seemingly in front of my eyes. I quit in a huff and to this day when I go to the ballet tear up with regret.

4.    When I first lived in London I worked as a producer on Diego Bunuel’s National Geographic show “Don’t Tell My Mother.” A friend of mine had been doing the work but needed someone to take over and I raised my hand. I got to go work in Paris for long stretches with a wonderful team, practice my French, and research lots and lots of interesting places like Libya, Kazakstan, Ukraine, The  Antarctic, The Himalayas. Putting together the hour-long show was a wonderful return to TV work for me after years away from it.

5. I rescued my first cat when I was 6 years old. Yes, it’s a lifelong problem I have. Her name was Koshka (which means cat in Russian) and I fished her out from under a car in the parking lot of our apartment complex that first year we lived in Moscow way back in 1979. Later we also had Butch who I brought home from the pet market, my Dad saved Mittens who had serious disabilities and a sweet disposition, and Tilly followed us girls home one Autumn and we snuck him into our apartment. There were several dogs who were pregnant when we brought them in - I'll never forget one dinner party when one of the pregnant dogs went into labor and was trotting through our small apartment with puppies just falling out of her in their embryonic sacs here, there, and everywhere while the guests tried to eat. My poor parents couldn’t keep them out of the house! As an adult, my problem has continued…but I wouldn’t trade any of our current 5 for the world. Spay and neuter your pets people!

6. When I started at Soviet School at 15, in spite of having lived in Moscow for years, I couldn’t really speak Russian as we were kept very separate from the population and I'd always studied French at the International School. But I very quickly had to learn, becoming quite fluent within months and able to read and write in Cyrillic. In school there we sat in pairs at desks built for 2 and my friend Elina would patiently help me as I slowly tried to recreate her beautiful cursive script. I’m a good mimic, and with the help of some tutoring on the side, I soon was able to read with fluidity and could spit out the bare minimum on a page if required. My Russian is horrifically rusty, but maybe I’ll go visit my old friend Elina (yes, we’re still in touch) and brush up on it. 

7. All of this connection to Russia and the former Soviet Union inspired my tattoo! I have a little gold hammer and sickle in the middle of a red Russian star on my left hip.

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