Today, I somehow got roped into going to the optional Russian-American discussion club. I think Meg said something about cute boys, which was a blatant lie. Anyway. The way that this works at the ygol is that a bunch of Russian kids who want to talk to Americans show up and then Meg brings over the three or four American kids who don't really want to talk to Russians show up. Then they shove us together in a room for two hours and we talk to each other. The first hour in Russian and the second hour in English.

There were a lot of Russians. Maybe twenty kids, so we divided up into two groups. And we were supposed to talk about the educational system in America versus the educational system in Russia, but I ended up answering questions like "Please tell us what Oregon is like," and "What is your state animal?" and "Can you sing your national anthem? Right now?" and "Can you please tell us what lots of different large American cities are like?" Seriously. What the fuck. I didn't sign up to try to describe what a beaver looks like. Although I did get the word for tail, which was pretty cool. It was painful, and I was painfully awkward. I don't like speaking in front of a lot of people, and having to speak Russian in front of other Americans just makes everything about a million times worse. I dunno why, because it's not like anybody cares or is judging me, but still. Mom was a big believer in the saying "It's better to be silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and have it confirmed," and I'm right up there with her, much as it pains me to say it.

I shouldn't be an asshole. She's paying for this trip. Or, rather, my dad is paying for it, but my mom is letting the money out. I'm so glad that all of that stuff is fading to just a bad dream and that I don't actually have to really think about it. Although I am going to have to ask her to ship all my notes and stuff. Fuck. I knew I should have just put it all in a huge box and sent it ahead.

After discussion club, I went home and did homework for hours and hours. The biggest bright spot in the day was that the heaters came on! A little. But this means that we'll have heat in the apartment! I can't remember if I explained how this works already, but the heat in Russia is regulated and controlled by some outside agency, probably the feds. The heat is turned on only when the temperature gets below a certain point (I've heard anywhere from +5 to -14—and that's all in ºC, bitches). Speaking of temperature, I have no idea how ºC works, although I know that when it's about 15, I probably don't need a sweater under my jacket, but that 11 is pretty fucking cold, especially if the wind is blowing. I'm not sure that I want to know what the negatives feel like.

Yay heat! And tomorrow is the last day of classes before the long trip to Kazan and Nizhny-Novgorod.