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I don’t know what I’m doing back on here.  It’s 2017.  Nobody really blogs anymore. Nobody follows me on here.

Good.

I can write what I want. It’s embarrassing to go back and look at what you wrote in the past, but it’s real, and that’s saying something. I’ve got like 8 past blogs to look back on redfaced, so I had to choose which one suited me best at this point in my life.  I *do* teach now, part time, so I guess this is the best one for me.

What’s the point?  I hate the feeling of ‘where did the time go’?  What even happened then/What was it like?  So, documentation.

First dental cleaning in a couple of years today at lunchtime. Grumpy week. Starting to wonder if I should come off the meds – no emotion is pretty shitty. Pretty basic day here. Actually cleaned the pan I used to make eggs this morning – just an hour after I used it.  Small successes. Blooming obsession with routine.  Loving our new rental house. Loving the boyfriend, but worrying that I make life hard for him. Want to be kind, and interesting – wondering if I’m just moody and boring.

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Tomorrow Jane and I will get up at the crack of dawn, haul our butts to the train station (where we will be met by the wonderful Elen) and point ourselves away from Russia.  Strange.

Currently teaching my last class.  LAST LAST CLASS.  Why am I sad?!  If you’re lucky, you’ll see me in a week.  A WEEK!!!! I thought I would never make it here. 🙂

Sunday was muggy and quite warm, it had rained twice already but Steph and I were hoping for the best when we met on Nevsky at 6pm.  At the end of the street we were funneled between two malitsia  trucks and ‘searched’.  I put searched in quotes because, in fact, I was missed.  Apparently I don’t look very susupicious.   After entering palace square and not being missed in the search process, we began looking for the best standing place.  Now… I learned in this process that the WORST place to be is directly in the middle (distance from the stage). As you back up, the stage gets shorter, right?  Well, where we were was the perfect distance for the tall people’s heads to be directly at stage level.  We didn’t recognise this at first, for some reason, so most of the time in the square was spent at the front of the cheaper back section (i.e. directly in the middle).

Anyway, the square started to get a little crowded, then a little more crowded, and then, finally, it required caps: CROWDED.  As crowded as I have ever been on the metro…. and let me tell you, that’s a lot of  people in a small space.   Like, I think I was touching six separate people without trying.   Sardines come to mind, disappointingly. During the opening number, Steph tried desperately to dance, but none of our neighbors are having any of it.  So it was challenging, like dancing in jello, or molassas.   Then, as we are all getting friendly and catalogueing each other’s breath scent, it begins to rain.  A little.  And people open their umbrellas.  How they even GOT to their umbrellas to open them is beyond me, but they managed.  And I knew it, I predicted it openly to a number of people.  Umbrellas in this situation just don’t work.  When the corner of someone else’s umbrella is under yours, and you are under that corner… you will get wet dispite your planning ahead skills.  They are pointless.  This is why I wore a water proof jacket.  Thank you, thank you.  You don’t have to mention the word ‘genious’.  🙂  Regardless,  the umbrellas remained open and as far as I know, nobody lost an eye, in spite of many close calls.   So it’s raining, then… it begins to pour.  I find this somewhat amusing because, at least 3/5ths of my body is still dry.  It rained for about 15 min and quit, then started again, then quit for good.  We waited in this scrunched space for an hour and a half between the opening act and Madonna.  It wasn’t pleasant.  There was a rousing game of ‘I spy with my little eye’ though.  It wasn’t entirely challenging because of the lack of objects our limited vision and immobility provided.

When Madonna came on and began singing ‘Vouge’ and I realized that no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t see, I began to panic.  I know this seems a little dramatic, but really, that’s what it was.  I couldn’t see the stage, Madonna in person (albeit small) or either of the two screens to the sides of the stage because of these large white tents that were set up between the two zones of ticket prices.  Looking back on it now, it would have totally been worth it to pay the extra 1500 Rubles ($50) to be so much closer and generally more appreciated.  Soon, Steph and I wised up and moved back about 20 yards and then!  Then we could see Madonna!  She was…. THAT speck, that one right there!!!  I saw her, ohmygod!

It was a good performance, I think.  Steph enjoyed herself after finding more breathing room in the back AND two random girls who wanted to dance too!  When I finally layed down to go to sleep, it felt like I was still in that sardine can, leaning side to side, being pushed around.  It reminded me of when you get home from spending the day in a wave pool at a water park, you get the feeling that you are still going over and over the waves.

I came on here with the fullest intent to write about how I was getting sad about leaving, but, it just isn’t the right time.  Not after falling UP the stairs to the internet cafe.  Not while there is a really crazy Brit who is paying over $3 an hour to watch a soccar match online, and is actually performing cheers and chants and talking to the screen right next to me.  At first, I thought it was cute.

In other news: Sushi Wednesday!  Night off!  And of course, 15 days until the lovely Jane of Madison comes.  She’s the dutchess.

That’s an optimistic title, right?  Good, thought so.  This post is mainly about me trying to fill my weekend with…. nothing.  But this nothing should feel like something!  Yesterday I woke up feeling sick, which is the best way to wake up, really.  Then I went grocery shopping at the usual place 1.5 miles away explored new routes of nutrient gathering and discovered avacados!  Then I met up with Elen and we walked  (how do I make walk sound more exciting?!) to the Peter and Paul Fortress where we sat on some rocks bathed in sunlight while resting on the bank of the Neva.  After this, we were nearly hit by a railcarbus thing, then I tried tounge, which really really made me queasy.  It was sliced really thin, but the edge was a little bit harder and chewier, and…you could discern where there was a black spot ON THE TOUNGE OF A COW.  I can’t think about it any more.

Today I walked back to the fortress to start souvineer shopping!  The fortress has a printing press where they make limited editions of different scenes of the city that are relatively cheap, so I bought three today, and I am really happy about what I got.  What do you people want upon my return?!  Deciding what to get everyone will be most challenging.  I walked home, hot, weak from illness and headachey.  Bought some cherries, bananas, a soda, butter and other random things.  Made lunch, talked to Dad – he is on his way BACK to Iraq again – and took a nap.  When I woke up and saw that it was 7pm, I was thoroughly convinced that I had slept from 2am – 7pm.  Alas, I hadn’t.  But I was pretty out of it.  

Only two more weekends in St. Pete.  Next weekend I hope to go to Pushkin… because I must get out there sometime before I leave, it’s just rediculous not to.   There will be other things to do, I just need to think about it.  If only I could pull myself away from the distractions in my apartment.  The radio is just engrossing.

Dad’s been here for a while now, and man have we been busy doing the tourist thing.  We’ve probably averaged about 6 miles of walking a day and we’ve been rained on at least 3 times.  Today was a very good day though, weather-wise and otherwise.  We went to the Church of the Saviour on the Spilt Blood, spent maybe 30 minutes in there, slack jawed and awe struck.  Then we took a stroll through the Mikhilovsky Garden, which really didn’t offer much for Dad and me, besides the 2 year old boy who ran laps around us while we rested on the steps of the Russian Museum.

The circus wasn’t exactly what I expected, it was a little short on the lions, tigers and bears, but heavy on the clowns and sea mammals.  I did laugh though, it was a good time.  After the circus we went to karovabar, which, translated, means ‘cow bar’.  There, I had the best meal I have had in about 8 months.  I knew it was a nice restaurant when I booked the table, and when I took the first bite of delicious steak, but when I had to get creative to use the bathroom faucet, the competition was over.  It’s how you know.

I hate the unrest I feel when my stuff is all packed up and split up in different places.  The feeling that I have right now is also caused by the fact that within a week I will have half as many friends, as many people are going home, AND that my dad is arriving today.  It’s a very confusing set of emotions.

Nothing else new to report.  I am going to go clean the kitchen now in preparation for the big MOVE OUT 2009, plan plan plan at school and teach.  THEN I will see DAD!

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