Emotion is a fickle thing

Sometimes I don’t feel like writing. Writing means you have to face something, whether it be a hidden emotion or an unwanted goodbye. Once it is written, it is there forever.  I just don’t want to do it.

So much happened, but making lists is tiresome. And how do you describe something that is indescribable without destroying what it truly is? Since the latter is a daunting task, in which I have no interest in taking on, mind you, I will succumb to the former.

A running list of things I have learned in Russia.

• The customer is never right.
• When a Russian says (insert desired location here) is within “walking distance” don’t be fooled. Remember, for quite some time Siberia was considered to be within walking distance.
• If you think something is filled with cheese, or chocolate even, it is not. It is filled with mushrooms.
• You WILL start to figure out the exchange rate/dollar value of things in terms of vodka. For example, “I just spent 300 rubles on a dinner doused in copious amounts of unwanted dill. I could have bought two bottles of cheap vodka for that. Or a bottle and a half of midgrade vodka.  What am I doing with my life?”
• Personal space is not as big of a deal as you once thought it was.
• The guards will never remember you, no matter how often they see you. You better have your identification ready.
• Conveniences are often unnecessary. Especially the ones you thought you couldn’t live without.
• Never underestimate the bargaining power of a produkti doughnut amongst your friends.
• Walking a mile to the nearest grocery store really isn’t that bad. Especially if you can buy the best corn you have ever eaten from that one roadside stand for 50 rubles.
• Babushkas have the right of way. Always.

No matter how much you gripe and complain about tired feet, unwelcoming glances, feeling like you have the intelligence level of a three-year old,  shameless staring, THE WORST CHAFING YOU HAVE EVER HAD IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, and less-than-desirable bathroom facilities, you will look back and romanticize your time here. I am already doing it. All of the things I swore I would never miss…I am already regretting not embracing them more.

It is a strange thing really- the feeling of leaving one home for another.

I left my heart in St. Petersburg.

I have been swept off my feet. I spent the past three days in St. Petersburg, and I fell inlove. I have wanted to go there for years, and as soon as I stepped off the train I knew it was special. Looking over the 400-something pictures I took this weekend, I regret not taking more. I don't even know what to write because I am so overwhelmed by the situation. If I wrote about everything I saw and felt, this blog would turn into a novel. So I'm not going to do that. 


I saw so much while we were there, but the highlight of the trip was the Winter Palace, the residence of the Romanovs.So much has happened there. It was official residence of the Tsars since the 18th century. Bloody Sunday occurred in it's Palace Square. Those halls have seen grand royal balls and have been ravaged by revolution. If its walls could talk, I cannot even imagine what they would say. We were there for about 3 hours, and there was still so much we did not see.


For those of you who don't know, and I am sure most of you don't, I am the biggest Romanov nerd ever. Like...my love for them may be border-line unhealthy? Their family biography can and has brought me to tears. It's a tragic story of priviledge and bad decisions. Either way, they have enchanted me for years. So, needless, to say, walking the halls of the Winter Palace was a religious experience. I could feel the past around me. With each step, I pictured every person who had taken that same step before me. I have studied that place so much. When I stopped to listen, I could hear laughter and the Tsar's footsteps that would have echoed through the marble halls. I could hear the selfish arguments of Grand Dukes, and secret snickering that began to destroy the family from within. I shivered when I thought of Rasputin. And when I closed my eyes, I saw revolutionaries and peasants storming the palace, driven by desperation and hatred. I could hear them coming. I honestly do not understand how a person could step foot into the Palace and not be immediately overwhelmed by the very thought of it. It fills me with this deep, strange sadness. 


When we stepped out into the Palace Square, the first thing I saw was Bloody Sunday. What a tragedy. I just wanted to sit there for hours and take it all in. In fact, next time I am in Russia, I will be coming back to St. Petersburg to do just that. Just sit. Unfortunately, with such a large group of people, you don't really get the chance to soak up what is around you. So we were just there for a few minutes and left. As we were leaving, I kept turning around to look at the Palace. I knew it would be years before I am able to see it again. I did not really care what the group was doing. In my general state of absent-mindedness I almost got run over by a horse and carriage, but one of my friends grabbed my arm before I was trampled. I don't remember who. I was too distracted. Even though my life almost came to a rather abrupt end, I kept turning my head back while we walked away. The last time I looked back, we had turned the corner and I could not see it anymore. I wanted to cry.


 By now, you are probably reading this and thinking I am crazy. But that is okay, because we are all passionate about something. 


I'm not going to lie, Moscow had me down. And now I feel renewed. I felt like I left a part of myself here seven years ago, and I thought I lost it. I think I found it in St. Petersburg. 

Dancing bears, painted dreams...cheese pizza.

So I have been sitting in front of my computer for the past 30 minutes coloring in my Lisa Frank Coloring and Activity Book, waiting for my pictures to upload. And then I decided that I really could not come up with a legit excuse NOT to write something...because I am coloring. So here we are. 


This week hasn't been as busy as the last couple of weeks. I went to class, I didn't go to class. You know, typical. On Tuesday, our boys had a basketball game against the FSU guys who are also studying here. I've discovered that I am a great heckler. My strategy isn't really to build my team up, but to just tear the other team down until they have absolutely no will to succeed. I was going to say,  "until they have no will to live," but I thought that was a little much. Anyway, I'm good at it. We won. Chomp chomp biotch.


Yesterday afternoon we went on a boat tour down the Moscow River. It was lovely, but the journey there was less than desireable, to say the least. Apparently, there is no civilized way to reach the boats. Shocking. Anyway, we found ourselves haphazardly wondering through some sort of Russian swampland riddled with enchantment and broken beer bottles. After sinking into some mud and complaining a lot, we found our way, washed our feet in the disturbingly murky waters of the great Moscow River, and boarded the boat. It really was a great tour. Pictures are coming soon.


In other news, Julia, Megan, Nicole, and I had a wonderful girls night last night. But far more important than the female bonding that occured is the fact that we found the most amazing cheese pizza at 2 am in the Cafe. The details as to how and why we ended up at the campus Cafe at 2 looking for pizza don't really matter though. All that matters it that it was delicious and now I want it all day, every day. I feel like I have been on a mission to find some sort of cheesy goodness to fill the void that I have felt since being here. And the fact that I found that cheesy goodness means that last night was the start of a very dangerous game. Anyway, the sassy waitress was obviously disgruntled with our enthusiasm and general existence, but she could not rain on our parade. 


Oh, yes, We are going to St. Petersburg tomorrow. I AM SO EXCITED. I am less excited about leaving at 5:30 tomorrow morning. But that is okay, because I have wanted to go to St. Petersburg for years. And now I will be there in less than 24 hours. Hollaaaaaa.


I think that is all I have to say.