Bought my travel tickets, turned in the final (for now) draft of my paper, am getting on the train for Sochi in a couple hours. There is also an attractive man sitting across the internet table, and there is an attractive man in Kiev who I will be seeing in about 3 weeks.

Life is pretty sweet.

So, I always find it really embarrassing when I post more than twice in one day, and generally I feel like it's something that people should be ashamed of, but I'm stuck on the conclusion for my paper and since solitaire died with my computer, I figure I can do something slightly more constructive and entertaining with my "thinking" time. Whatever.

I also remembered several of the things that I had been wanted to post about but always forget whenever I sit down to write. Number one: the fucking weather. I realize that this sounds totally banal, but it's pretty fucked. Like, it was snowing last week. Not a whole lot, but enough to drag out the winter gear again. Two days BEFORE it started snowing, it was +15 and sunny. Two days after it stopped: +15 and sunny. This morning when I left the house it was already +10 and sunny and I was looking forward to a great day. By afternoon, it was probably +2 and cloudy. Thanks a lot, Spring.

With the advent of Spring and the hideous Spring fashions, this is a good time to review my Winter highlights. First prize for the most heniously ugly thing I've seen this winter goes to either the girl wearing the Mickey Mouse pants, or the girls with the hairy boots. The boots are awful: imagine that you decided that a baby yeti's feet would make attractive footwear, then cut them off, and wore them around town. Second prize goes to all the girls in the puffy down jackets that end right underneath their breasts, leaving their entire midriff exposed in the -25 weather. Very nice, girls. Way to work on the shrinking population problem by freezing your ovaries! Good work! Last but not least, third prize goes to the goths. Because who the fuck is a goth anymore? I mean, really?

While we're on the subject of blasts from the past: rollerblades. When's the last time you saw somebody rollerblade (apart from Napolean Dynomite)? They're seriously the rage here. People blast down Nevsky on their rollerblades knocking over the little babyshkas, drunk businessmen on lunchbreak, and whoever else happens to get in their path. And for as many people as there are on Nevsky (i.e., a lot of obstacles), I have yet to see one bite it. I'm eagerly waiting. And when that day comes, I will laugh, my friends. I will laugh a lot.

Also. Sex in bathrooms. Is really gross. I understand that it's really hard for young people to find places to get busy since everybody lives with their parents until they're at least 30, but seriously, people. I went to a club a while ago and of the 6 or 7 bathroom stalls, only 2 were actually available for use (the others being occupied by horny young couples and kids blowing coke, although where they get the money for that is beyond me). At the internet cafe a couple nights ago, I walked into the bathroom and there were used condoms floating in the toilet. Now, this might be okay if there was, you know, nowhere else to put them, but there was a trash can SIX INCHES away! Right next to the toilet! This is just unnecessary. Not only do they have to rub in that the rest of us aren't getting laid, but they have to be gross about it too. Ew.

And another thing. Personal hygiene. I feel like this has probably been the subject of at least one other paragraph in at least one other post, but the entire country of Russia reminds me of that scene from the Blues Brothers where they're in the fancy restaurant and the man at the next table asks the maitre'd to be moved. "Frankly they're offensive... smelling." Yeah. I understand that sometimes it's hard to bathe every day. I don't. But I bathe when I'm dirty or when I'm starting to smell bad, not when I've already smelled bad for a couple days, then decided to piss myself and roll around in a pile of my own shit. Maybe throw up a little bit on my shirt. Just for good measure. And I'm ALWAYS next to these people. It never fails. I wasn't sure that the B.O. could be worse than it was this winter, but I think it actually is getting worse as the weather is getting warmer. Maybe because people have less clothes on and the stink is closer to the air or something? Somebody smart tell me why they're so much stankier now.

There's some other stuff too, which I will probably write about very soon. Probably involving upcoming travel plans. (And maybe even mullets...)

I really don't know why I'm writing this, because I don't have any fantastic news or funny stories. Or even major complaints. Life is just... I dunno... life. Pretty much as usual. Except of course more funky. Because it's Russia.

Today in Stylistics class, we learned that slang for the word "super" is "super-pooper." I have never heard anyone use this, nor will I use it. However, it's an interesting and entertaining point of "fact." Also in Stylistics, we're learning how to swear like sailors, although without any actual practice, and without the teacher actually saying any of the words out loud. And she won't even write the full words out on the board. So lame. Luckily I have Russian friends to practice with.

We're going to the resort town of Sochi next week. I'm hoping it'll be warm and beautiful and I can lay on the beach, which means that it will probably be cold and rainy all week. That's it.

Hang tight, kids. It's almost the end!

The days continue to slide by, bringing me that much closer to GOING HOME!!! Granted that this is still 5.5 weeks away, and more if I can work out going to the south of France and Kiev, Ukraine. France, because it's a free trip, and Kiev because... uh... it's a nice city. Really. No snickers about mullets or people whose names start with G, please.

The most entertaining thing to have happened in recent weeks is that I was mistaken for a prostitute! Granted that it was sort of late and I was standing on the corner, but still... Okay. So. I went over to Margaret's to watch "The Blues Brothers." Since my computer died, I have resorted to inviting myself over when I want to watch a movie. Anyway, the movie ended, and it was still theoretically possible to catch a marshutka home, since it was only 11.15. So I was waiting on the corner, watching the traffic so that I could catch the marshutka if I saw it go by, but then this man came up to me. "Excuse me, miss. Do you work here?" I automatically answered "No!" because I don't like to talk to people on the street, but then I realized what he'd said to me. By the time it had sunk in, he had already walked off. At this point, I figured that I'd probably be better off walking to the metro. So I did. I was totally appalled, mostly since I don't in any respect look like a hooker. Maybe my hair since it has a crappy red dye job right now and I cut it myself (but it's grown out really well). I don't even dress Russian, which is already halfway to whore. Whatever. Men are stupid. Oh, and speaking of men being stupid... There's this creepy guy from high school (yes, the sheep fucker) who still occasionally contacts me. Despite the fact that I haven't responded to him in years. Or ever, really. What's the deal? It's so not healthy to do that shit. Anyway. Moving on...

I found out that the big paper that I was supposed to have been working on all semester is going to be due the day after my birthday. Which is pretty much about as fan-fucking-tastic as it gets. So I will be stressed, cracked out, etc. etc. for my birthday and up all night at the internet cafe. At least they have beer, which might make the whole thing more acceptable. Of course, if I was on top of my shit, I would be almost done by now, but I'm not. I'd really much rather figure out my plans for what (who? what?) I'm going to do after the program and where the hell I'm going to live when I get back to Portland. At least I have a job. And! Maybe the best news of all that I haven't shared because there were some complications, is that I got into grad school at the University of Pittsburgh, and they have basically bend over backwards to get me to come. So it looks like I'm making tracks back east in the fall.

I'm not sure if I really have any more news. There will probably be more posts as my life continues to break down, and thus gets more hilarious.

Because I know you all care, I am currently sitting in the internet cafe at 6am, next to a surly looking 16 year old playing some bizarre shoot'em'up, listening to Jay-Z from across the room, and preparing a presentation on AIDS (that I forgot I had to do until 11:30 last night).

This is quite possibly the worst morning ever.

So it was called to my attention that it sounds like I "shat all over Dave" in the last post, which yes, might be pretty accurate. However, bear in mind, gentle readers, that I was, as we all tend to be, actually really excited about the whole thing, even after I found out he was a crazy. Go figure. Anyway, I guess the moral of the story is that you win some and you lose some, and yes, I was probably the asshole in this "relationship"... as well as my last, how many? Fuck counting, it's just depressing.

The biggest news of the last few weeks is that my computer power cord exploded. Actually, almost literally. There was a huge spark and popping noise and a bunch of black smoke. Luckily it was just plugged into the wall and not into my computer, otherwise all my shit would probably be fried. Anyway, when I unwrapped the electrical tape, I discovered that the fat end of the cord was totally blown through and there were also some holes and burned wires on the skinny side that connects to my computer. My host dad, the physics and electrical genius, took a look at it and pronounced it "royally fucked," although not in so many words. He's too cool to be crass. I hauled ass to the only place in Peter that sells Apple parts and they told me that I could have a new power cord that ran on crappy Russian power for $100. Fuck you, Apple! Fuck you for telling me that I shouldn't buy an adaptor before I came! I hate you all! So meanwhile I'm lamenting the loss of my endless hours of solitaire, shitty american music, and being condemned to the internet cafe to write the rest of this fucking paper.

Let's not talk about the paper or conference, shall we? Let's also not talk about graduate school. Or boys.

On a positive note (because those are always really fun...phhbt), I bought euro-trash fabulous jeans at the rinok today for 800 rubles. This is about $32. They are fantabulous. I wish that I could post pictures, but alas, my ability to post pictures to the blog died with my computer. Let me just say that there is pocket detailing and the back pockets came pre-slashed. Please, just imagine the awesome!

Because my highschool is that awesome, we get solicited every three months or so for information about what we're doing. Last time, I said something about how I was hot-air-ballooning to the arctic to establish a colony of three-eyed frogs, or something ridiculous. This time I said, "After a recent brush with the Odessian Mafia involving several kilos of hasish and some handguns, I am on the lam and considering changing my name to Masha Kalashnikova." Of course they won't print it, but it amuses me. Which I guess is really all I can ask for...

...And that concludes this week's edition of all the news and not news that's both fit and unfit to print.