i'm alive!

The time for a new post has come and passed without me actually writing one, so now, instead of doing theoretical physics homework, which I won't be able to focus on anyways, I'm doing this. So first things first. The bf limbo is finally coming to an end. He's returning on Saturday  and all that business on his hospital end seems to be going well. So, yeah...
Otherwise, I've been feeling quite swamped with all my studies. Too much stuff to do, I guess. But I'll start with something positive. The saturday before last there was the annual open student's ball in honor of MIPT's birthday. I had been doubtful as to whether I wanted to go, but I ended up going, and I hadn't had so much fun since D and I spent a cold rainy night in a tent in the woods, which was at the very beginning of summer. There was lots of awesome dancing, and I mean REALLY awesome, both with guys and girls, because the organizers of this dance, are not homophobic, and appreciate a great lead, even when that person happens to be a girl. I danced almost continuously, got asked quite a number of times, which is always very pleasant, and have some photos to show for it. I also found out that waltzing when your calves are cramping is terribly uncomfortable and painful, and I couldn't walk without muscle pain for two days afterwards, but it was totally worth it. Last Saturday there was the small matter of my birthday. I didn't really celebrate, but my mom surprised me with a flower delivery which included an obnoxious balloon, singing happy birthday. But as cliche and kitchy it was it was nice. that day I also had a bit of a big presentation of my semester project. For some reason, I got a pretty good 'potential' grade on it. And here I say potential, because it's more of a trial run. the actual presentation is going to be two weeks from next saturday, and by next week I need to not only finish the project, but also have a paper ready to turn in for review. Also labs, and oh god theoretical physics. that's going to be my one big worry this year. the work at the base has been relaxed up till now, but is probably going to pick up soon, since half the allotted time is passing, and I have to have a literature review on the topic done by the 10th of December, which is a bit of a complicated matter, mostly because I still don't really know what I'll be doing. Well, enough of this. You get the gist of it. tons of work. And this, of course is the time that D has to come back. The busiest freaking time of the year. Well, he has reinstatement exams coming up too, so we'll both have stuff to do, but at least we'll be able to see each other now and then. Well, surprisingly this is really all that is happening, at the moment. lots of work, little else.
Oh, actually I've had two little wood carving projects, one I've made in the likeness of a fox, and the other is a very simplistic Celtic knot thing (a surprisingly thing to carve, actually. much more difficult than the fox - mostly because of the intersections and all the curves, etc.) The wood was obscenely hard, so I kind of killed my fingers a bit when I just started, but after spending 12 or so hours on it, the skin on the fingers becomes a bit tougher, and the pressure hurts much less, so I didn't even need band aids to save fingers from friction for the second piece. So yeah, all out of things to say for now, so cheers!
 I've now doused both in bergamot oil (mostly because it's the only type I have, but it has the plus of making them smell heavenly.) The idea that inspired this was, of course the upcoming holidays. so, as you can guess, these will be presents.)

------

My cat died yesterday evening. It wasn't a natural death. I couldn't sleep last night. Don't ever ask me about her.  

first snow and other calamities

So, as the title suggests, we got our first snow. I know, what you're thinking. It's not even November for ****s sake, but this is Russia, and that's just how we roll. Or rather, that's just how mother nature likes to eat it's humans, either fried or in popsicles. And as you know, (or maybe not) the first snow, though it's a bit early this year, it always herald to the lazy people like myself, and many others, that it is high time to start doing all the coursework that you've been baling on for the last two months. (There's an analogous rule for the spring, where it's time to work, when the snow thaws) Well, aside from this sudden, downturn in weather, there's not all that much going on otherwise. aside from the usual programming for one class, reading for another class, more reading for both this class, and multitudes of others as well. Lots of busywork...

Today, however, there will be a lecture (in English) on exoplanets. I've no idea what they are, but I'm planning on going just for the sake of listening to some good English. And after that i get to stay up all night programming for my physical methods of investigation project, which i'm actually going to have to have half done by the end of November. and then there's the base labs, and, and, and, and, and... *sigh* so much work...
on the up side D might actually be returning earlier than I though. Here was thinking he'd be here only towards the end of November, but it turns out, that he'll have his last (or pre-last) rounds of tests around the 1st, and if the rest doesn't take too long, then maybe he'll be back by the 17th (which would be lovely, since I could drag him to the ball with me, and that would be quite fun.) well, soon enough, we'll see how it all will work out. all that's left to hope is that the whole hospital crap will actually work. That's my one big worry at the moment, aside from all the other crap.

On the up side, my nails are long now, and I bought decorative stickers for them, and they improve my mood every time I see them, which is kind of awesome I guess. *yay! for pretty nails*
well, folks, that's all for now. Got to run!

the magic of hugs

I may or may not have mentioned that I haven't been sleeping well since I moved into the dorms. I thought it was because I wasn't used to the new bed, and it seems I was very wrong. Turns out, that all a girl needs to be able to sleep like a baby is something to hug at night. Preferably, a soft fuzzy red pillow. 

this and that

It occurred to me that I haven't actually written about my life for a while, so I'll correct that. There's a reason for it, I'd think. Mostly, it's because there's a lot of uncertainly in some aspects in life, while there's too much certainty in others, and a bizarre mix of both in other's still.

Well, this September has kind of been making me think about the future a lot. Like my whole life is pretty much being decided now. I got to my base institute, I chose the area I'm going to be working in. The base is potentially the place I'll be building my career at, and that's somewhat of a scary thought to me. Permanence is something I'm not used to. I'll either be working in molecular dynamics or quantum chemistry. At the moment, I'm thinking I might try my bachelor on dynamics, and if I don't like it, I'll switch. My base is pretty awesome in that aspect. They pretty much let you do what you want, which you really don't find all that often. You generally are a work slave of your boss, and they don't seem to have it be as extreme here as it is in other places. So that's going pretty well for me.

In other news my bf got himself kicked out of the institute for various reasons. So he's been jumping hospitals all month back home to escape the army (there is a mandatory draft for all who aren't currently at school.) So there's been lots of vk (read fb) chatting, and little else, which is less than optimal, as you can imagine. He should be back before November, so 'till then...

Oh, snap!

So, I was walking to my base institute today, when I walked past car crash. like a real legit car accident, with somewhat shmushed cars, airbags, police and, of course, a big ol' traffic jam! I didn't see any injured people, but I'm tihinking that there were some, because just as I was walking past, a freaking helicopter flew by above me. There it is on the picture. but what entertained me far more is that I actually was able to watch it land ( That was the first time I ever saw a helicopter land in real life, which was somewhat exciting.) Funnily enough right next to my base is a birthing hospital, which apparently didn't have a helipad, so the helicopter landed in the parking lot of the hospital, as weird as it was. but the most entertaining part was when i thought everything was done, I crossed the street, and just as I was approaching the fence (it's like 3 meters high) around the hospital, Two dudes in blue with backpacks were climbing over it.
I saw how two grown, intelligent men, in their 30s to 40s clamber across a freaking fence and then proceed to run towards that selfsame car crash, where they would probably be stopping a nosebleed. (The cars were in pretty decent shape, and there was much calmness so I'm assuming that it was not a serious accident as much as some serious person. and by that i mean someone with a lot of money.)  

parallel worlds

Recently, I've been having trouble differentiating between dreams and reality. It's a really weird sensation. I'll be walking down the hallway, thinking about how I have to put money on my internet account, and then I'll remember that I spent all my money (which is like 15 000 at the moment) on buying some expensive thing that meant life or death, and then It hits me that that's a bit odd, and I realize that that had been a dream. Or, I'll be thinking about how my toe hurts, and how I was peeling off layers of nail and showing it to my mom, that once you get all the bad layers off, it becomes normal again (which it does, only problem is that toe nails don't really work like shark teeth, and they actually have to grow out.) It's an odd sensation, when dreams and reality start to mix. usually my dreams were always so totally alien and weird that I had no problems telling them apart from real life. As odd as it may seem; some episodes from life are  merging into dream, and sometimes I'm not sure if said thing really happened. But it straightens out after a while of thinking about the plausibility of the situation. 

free stuff!

A few days ago, we had a visit from the gas guy. The gas guy is this random maintenance person sent from whoever gives us our gas for the stove, and completely unsurprisingly, our 40 year old stove leaked, which is really not good, if you know aught of gas stoves. Happily, a bit of the old system still survives, and according to it, people on pension have the right to be given one from the government. As, you know we live with my grandma, so yesterday two men came and installed a new stove. For free. Just like that. I think that's pretty awesome. There used to be more programs like this one, but they kind of died in the 90s for various reasons. So you can say socialism sucks all you want, but there really can be no complaints about getting free stuff.

dance

If you are a dancer, then you know thaat some dances stay with you forever. In social dance, they come completely randomly when to people who dance with eachother occasionally suddenly click and for the duration of a song enter into their own world where two near strangers fuse into one consciousness. I hope that in their lives everyone would have the delight to experience such intimacy, such ecstasy. For me there have been three such dances, and I will tell you of them.

The first one actually happened at my old high school, at the swing dance club. During that time the leadership had started introducing more slow tunes to the usual repertoire in order to force the little ones to actually feel what they were doing in detail, thus making them realize that they kinda suck. This dance was to the tune of the Pink Panther theme by Henri Mancini. It started with a funny sort of invitation. None of that "May I have this dance?" nonsense. No. He lassoed me. We caught eachothers eye, and he started swinging a pretend lasso rope above his head, and then lassoed me. I played along. And the dance that followed was very extraordinary. He had become a decent lead by that time, and knowing nothing of blues, we danced blues. It was very musical, mostly to the melody of the saxophones, with dips, and long turns during which I was in control. He was indeed one of those leads who were not afraid to look me in the eye. I'm quite certain our gazes were very intense. It was free form dance, stepping with the melody rather than the beat, imaginative in the tiny nuances that you usually never notice, tense, filled with subdued energy. Masses of it. Beautiful. And saturated with joy. After it ended, we broke our stare, and the most gigantic smiles spread across our faces, and the tension found an outlet. We celebrated that moment. That song. That dance. From that moment on, whenever pink panther played we sought each other out every time, hoping to repeat that dance. But you can never repeat a moment once it's passed, only cherish its memory.

The second one happened towards the end of a PSU swing dance club meeting. It was one of those rare occasions when the great god of SCAHS swing (and by that I mean the founder of the cswing dance club at my high school) visited. And as luck would have it, one of SCAHS favorite songs, bu our favorite artist started playing. Michael Buble's Fever. This dance is one of the best I've ever danced with, and one of the most forceful ones. When he gives a lead, you have no choice but to be led wherever he desires. He has the ability to bend you down during a side by side Charleston and you'll actually do it, and it'll look good, even if you have no idea what in the world you're doing. I distinctly remember an instance when he led a jump, and I realized that I had jumped by the impact of landing. That's how awesome he is. The song is one of those where you know every single note, and the precise timing of every accent and drum beat. Where you know every melody of every instrument, and you've danced to it a thousand times a thousand different ways. And you can do a thousand more and never get bored, or repeat the feeling you get. This dance was extraordinary. It was so very dynamic. He clearly experimented with moves. A dip where I free fall backward only to be caught by him, and deep standard dips, jumps that were perfectly in time with the music. So perfect that it sends currents of exhilaration down your spine.Anyone looking at us from the side would not have believed that it wasn't choreographed. Such ease and complexity and variation. Infinite variation. I doubt that we repeated any moves for the duration of the song. There were many subtle style changes as the music changed. Perfect. It was indeed perfect.

The third dance also happened at PSU swing. This was my last dance at PSU swing. And as it later turned out my second to last dance with this particular lead. We met again at an Arts Fest concert, and danced a few times. But they didn't compare. Nothing compares to that dance.I walked up to him and asked him for a dance, and he spent quite some time choosing a song. He picked a very smooth blues tune with many variations. you know, the kinds of blues tune that is slow and quiet, yet holds within itself infinite energy. Quite frankly I remember very little of the song, neither the melody, language, or anything else. That was the intensity of our dance, it was all consuming. I danced with my eyes closed as had by then become my custom. I could only hear the music, and feel his leads, and my own motion. His style is heavy set, but clear, and his leads insistent, though never forceful. I could almost feel his fascination during the dance. It was amazing. At one point he completely broke contact. I was blind, and he had sent me spinning away from him quite quickly. I had no idea where the walls were. I spun. And spun. And spun, added flourishes. Then when my mind began to regain its bearings, to wonder where my guide was, and thoughts of smashing into a wall flashed though my mind, he returned with a lindy swing out. Ah! Brilliance! Complete freedom in total submission and trust. Unique. Eventually, the music ended, leaving us both breathless and reluctant, for we were both leaving the swing dance club forever. But we smiled, knowing that our dance was one we'll always remember not only because it was the last, but because it was one of the best.

Ever since I left State College the dances have been at best satisfactory, but usually somewhat disappointing. There is no blues dance, here nor swing. Only a few lovers of hustle which is way too latino for my taste. I haven't felt that magical connection with my partner, where you lay your souls bare and are free for a short while, and true.

фффффффффф

So, I went to the Pushkin museum on Sunday and Tuesday (bought a two day ticket to the two buildings, and they don't work on Mondays.). It's delightfully cheap for college students 200 Rubles to both buildings, which is something like 6 or 7 dollars. I want to the main building today which has lots of Greek sculptures (including a ginormous David, which I found to be slightly disproportional) but the thing that surprised me most was in one of the rooms with paintings there. These were some of the really old masters, and I don't even remember who made it, but it caught my eye because it was rather large, and also It was a city scene with carriages and beautiful old buildings in a room full of portraits, and most of all I though it looked a terribly German kind of town, so I went up to it to see if my guess was right. And I was. It was a scene of the old market in Dresden, and at that moment I recognized the church towers at the edges and almost started to cry. I guess it was just a bit of a shock to have been confronted with a place that I've been really missing during the past few days so completely out of the blue. *sigh* stupid mood swings...

!?

Ok, so now I'll get to the actual good part! Or I guess it would be the good part, if you're a sucker for these things. But I'll start out a bit more obscurely. Imagine this scene.
It's early evening by a lake. And a dark wood, with many tall bushes and small alcoves within them. In one of these alcoves is a sort of camping ground for three tents, though only one was set up, and in the center - a fire pit with a flame crackling. Next to the fire stands a tree stump - a makeshift table of sorts and on it: a candle burns and there are two wine glasses with a bottle of red wine. In the background - a swing. You know, it's one of those things that you usually only see in those horrible chick flicks, where this random guy prepares this ridiculously elaborate surprise for the main heroine. You know the ones that make you want to either kill the screenwriter, or be in them, and you can't decide which it is you want more. And that actually happened. Like in real life. and it was awesome. But yeah, as you can guess by now,I got a new boy. and you'll laugh when I tell you about our first date: first we went to this random playground, then went on a very long walk and finished by watching the European championship in soccer! (I really really wanted to watch! If you didn't know, I become a soccer nut for a month every 24 months.)but yeah, since It's summer break, he's home and I'm home, so we don't see each other at all, (except when he's coming to Moscow just to visit me next Monday. But that's all we'll get to see of one another till the semester starts.) But he's awesome, very thoughtful, and cuter than a kitten if that's possible. So yeah. I'm happy. =)

the big secret to pms

Ok. So, on a completely random and unrelated tangent, I'll tell any and all of you guys (and girls) why it is that girls get pissy when mother nature knocks on the door.
Aside from the weird slush of hormones that make you feel happy in the morning, then exhausted by noon, then angry st the world by 5pm and completely depressed by 9pm, there's the little detail of what it's actually good for. Basically it's a whole loot of disgusting, and you're sitting in it. All day. All night. For several days. for you boys, just imagine continuously shitting yourselves a little. It's pretty much the same, only the smell and color are a bit different. but that's not all, usually this nice portable puddle is accompanied by aches and pains, that make it impossible to walk around for a long time, or even worse stand. (and remember that sitting also has its hazards, as stuff could leak, and that is all kinds of embarrassing.) So the next time you want to accuse a girl of pms, just put yourself in her position. You'd be pissy as well.

Was stressed

Ok. Well idk if I even want to tell you about the ever constant homework serenades. You've all already heard them multiple times, and aside from minor deviations, they're always the same. Therefore, I'll keep it short. The most noteworthy instance was that I ended up turning in the last of my math hw in front of the new building at about midnight when there were a number of drunk students on all the other benches. Makes you kinda feel hardcore. Everyone's partying, and you're studying equations of mathematical physics. We totally rock. NOT!
Well so that was over and exams went as usual. Got a 5/10 on economy, which wasn't hard. Then barely passed those equation thingumses. And gave the final blow with the state exam on mathematics. So, aside from the exam I'll have to take to get into the masters program, I'm finally done with math!
Another interesting instance was how I passed my elective course. Here elective is meant in such a way: we got to pic between molecular biology, or 2 weird craps, that are not only boring as hell, but also a pain in the behind. So, needless to say I picked molecular biology, which as so many things not math or physics were a simple repetition of the SCAHS curriculum. I think went to 5-6 lectures of like 16, so I slept though almost half of them on location, which is quite the accomplishment. But the fun was how the final happened. The teachers gave us the option of doing a 5 minute presentation on a virus instead of actually having to answer questions pertaining to the material. Everyone, including myself jumped at the opportunity, of course. Now, for the epic story:
The night before the due date. I'm of course making the presentation. Once done at around 1 am, I find it's twice as long as it should be. Must. Not. Sleep. Must. Sift. Through. Hep. A. Virus. Info. Shorten. Pres.... well, you get the idea. I went to bed around 5 probably, and at 8 I had to get up. Lucky fro me, the window was open, and some workers decided that 10 am was a great time to make a hellish noise dragging metal stuff over asphalt. that woke me up. My first thought. @#!$##$%#!$#$%!#@#~#@$%&*&**%$##$%^(*&^%$##@~~#$%!!! My second thought: action! I got dressed in record time, and almost rand to the lecture hall, where I arrived at the very very end of my group. a minute later, and I'd have had to learn stuff! Think of the peril! I rattled off the presentation extremely quickly, (I made the 5 min limit although I had more like 7 mins of material) and even better got a full mark on it, and the whole course. Basically this was an exercise in awesome. For once in my life!


Now to bigger and better things. but first, I'll tell you the sad sad story of failure and idiotism, that killed much fun-ness. 'T was before the computational mathematics test. As you may or may not guess, I know nothing of computational mathematics, and thought that it would be good not to fail the test. To do that I supposedly need to study. (note the conditional clauses.) Unfortunately, just before the test there was this field trip thing. kind of like a sports/competition festival sort of deal. And, if you know me, then you know that I'm a sucker for these things. I love them to death! but, being the studious, good girl I am, I decided not to go in favor of cramming some more. Well, how do you think that turned out for me? Well, like 80% of the people who bothered showing up, i also totally failed it. Ergo: not only did I miss something I would have remembered for the rest of my life, but also totally f***ed up the test. yay me...

NOW, on to bigger and better things. Namely, the circus!!! I'm sure I haven't written about this yet! Winter (it was March 14th, but I say winter because it was still cold as f***.) Well, as you can see on the picture, I went to see Cirque Du Soleil. I went with my mom and dad. Dad didn't like it of course, because he's way to conservative to appreciate showmanship, but my mom and I liked it a lot. Very spectacular, to say the least! The music was interesting, and the costumes were the very best part. They had these weird white people in the most bizarre guises running around everywhere all the time. Their clothes were often wildly exaggerated, and each one was completely different and totally silly.


I'll stop here for today, since I'm tired of writing. (And I haven't even gotten to the most interesting part yet!!!) but more is soon to follow!! 

Issues

I know it's horrible to say you hate someone, but don't they also say that there's a very fine line between love and hate, and one that's far too easy to cross at that. It's not always true, I think. But sometimes there's no other way to describe what's there.

I hate that he's the one person in my life that can make me cry with a single phrase.
I hate that everything I do, I do with thought to what he will think of it.
I hate that almost every conversation, even about the most common an seemingly unrelated topics ends with me being inadequate in some form.
I hate that he would do anything for me without regard for himself.
I hate that he's planned out my life for me.
I hate that I actually think that it's a good one.
I hate that I have no idea how to talk to him about things that really matter.
I hate that he doesn't know how to do that either.
I hate that I am afraid to tell him the truth.
I hate that I'm afraid to disappoint him.
I hate that I need him.
I hate that he feels he can't rely on me.
I hate that he's always right.
I hate that there is nothing I can do about any of this.
And most of all I hate that he's never angry with me.

OMFG! A POST!

So, it's been quite a long while since I last posted. I even broke my one post a month rule, which I am extremely sorry for. on the up side, i'll be writing a number of posts in the coming weeks, I think, to recap everything. I'll start with where I left off, or at least what I remember from so long ago.

You might recall that a rather important question was supposed to be answered: namely, which f the sixteen base institutes will be mine. I don't remember if I have already explained this, so forgive me if I repeat myself. This is such an important question, because it basically determines what I'm going to do with my life, even to the extent that the base is probably going to be my job for like forever (though not necessarily, but there's much time to speculate about that yet. many many years.) I might have told you about the center for photochemistry, that I liked a lot. This is so for quite a number of reasons: 1) it's interesting 2) it's extremely easy 3) they pay well 4) (and most importantly) my dad thinks it's a good place, so he'll leave me alone about it.
Well, as luck would have it, I was assigned there, and more interestingly; the only other people there are two boys from my current group, one lazier even than me at times, and the other a bit of a, eh, how to put this, 'questionable' individual. On a side note: this is actually extremely unusual, just so you know. =)

Well, once that was cleared up, I had to start doing all the homeworks, which as always is the biggest pain in the behind in the world, but I'll tell you about that next time =) 

of singing and parents

As far back as I can remember I really liked to sing. I knew every single kids song by heart, and sung them all the time. I had song books, and CDs with kids songs to which I would sing. Then I stared going to school in Dresden, and there we had this horrible music teacher. He was in his 40s divorced and had a failed music career behind him as a flutist, which is why he started teaching. He wore leather pants and made tons of painful music jokes that we counted, because the lessons were so excruciatingly boring otherwise. He also made us sing in front of the entire class twice a year. Each person got their solo performance, and I'm sure you can imagine how terrified a 7th grader is of singing in front of your friends, and getting graded based on how good you were. With his policy he managed to make everyone hate him and music. Also, he convinced me that I really really suck at singing. Since then I only ever sing when I know that no one's listening, so as to not embarrass myself and spare the delicate auditory apparatus of everyone around me. 
Well, since then some of my more musical friends ave told me that I sing well, and that I've got good hearing. but i tend not to believe them. But it also makes me very sad that my dad is way too much of a scientist. You see, when I was little, he didn't want me to learn an instrument, because apparently it's pointless. I've actually always wanted to learn to play some instrument. It doesn't really matter which, I guess. But as I get older, it seems a progressively unlikely thing. I guess my only chance is that when I'm standing on my own feet, earning my own money, and living by myself, I'll be free of his oppressive presence, and I'll start to do the things that he kept me from doing.

On that note, I actually suspect that he thinks I'm like him. I think like him, and want the same things. Basically he thinks I wish to go into science professionally, and work with him. He keeps trying to pull me towards that, and I don't think that's either fair, or right. It's like he's got me confused with a younger female version of himself, if that makes sense. But it's really just delusion on his part. I'm interested in far more things than molecules and quantum mechanics, and I don't think I'd be able to live the way he does, with his calculations being his one and only ambition. I need to be able to draw, and write, and take photos, and write, and be with people. He seems to do none of that. The only time I've heard him speak of other people was when he was saying how good or bad a scientist that individual was. Or how some bureaucrat made his life difficult, because he and the government are idiots... It's kind of sad when you think about it. and I don't want that to be my life.
It's also kind of funny how most of my life my mom has been trying to teach me not to listen to my dad. It's usually the other way around, isn't it? I guess the fact that I turned out t least half way normal is because of my mom. Now that she's been away in the US for the third year now, I'm starting to understand that I've severely under-appreciated her for most of my life. I'm really sorry for that. I wish she'd come back...
On and end note: it's finally spring! look at the pretty rocks =) (Also I think I'll try putting more pictures up here, but I'm not making any definite promises)

wtf? it's april!

Ok, so I want to take a little time to rant about the weather here. Believe it or not, I took this picture this morning when I was returning to the dorm after a morning lecture. I mean, yeah the snow has been a bit less (it was more than knee deep not three weeks ago.) But still. it's freaking APRIL! Where are the FLOWERS?! On the up side it's at least always above freezing, and you can put away the really really warm fur boots, but that's not really the issue. This April Fools our pranksters even had trouble finding puddles to color green (it's a traditional prank.) because all the puddles are still in solid form rather than liquid. I'm tired of this Russian weather. snow from November till April. and then excessive heat from June to September. You only get 2 months of tolerable weather. I need to move back to Europe...

WARNING: RANT!!!

Scenario: It's a holiday, a big national one, you even get off school, and you and a bunch of your friends spend the day together to celebrate it. The plan: go sledding and horsing around in the snow. Well you do that, and then one of the couples there who lives with another one of the couples there says: "Hey! We have food!! Let's eat!" So you go eat. As always, it's not too great, cause you're the pickiest eater on the entire freaking planet. But, overall, everyone is happy and the day was well spent. No second thoughts, right? WRONG!
A few weeks later, one of the girls from that selfsame couple, comes up randomly and says:

"Hey, you owe us $15."
me: "wtf?"
she: "Remember, we fed you?"
me: "Yeah."
she: "So you owe us 15 bucks."
me: "...ok... I guess...." Said I

now every time she sees me something like this happens:

me: "Hi, how are you?"
she: "Hey, you owe us $15."
me: "I know..." 

followed by me going away and muttering curses under my breath. If the b**** had told me that her fodder was worth $15, I wouldn't have touched the stuff. I'd much rather go to an actual restaurant and eat what I actually like! Or better yet: make something myself! Of course, half the stuff was left over. so they got themselves a week's worth of feed for four, for the price of a day. And now you know a great way to cheat honest people out of their f***ing money.
I feel cheated, and lied to. And as I didn't like her before, she managed to actually make me dislike her. Good job! I have only two words for her:
Fuck you!
Oh, and in case you're wondering: yeah I'll pay up, cause that's what honest people do.

Re: Farewell

Man, I just read this wonderful post one of my best friends wrote. He's been pining over a breakup for a really long time, and he's one of those people who pour their souls out onto paper and aren't actually afraid to show it, and I respect him greatly for that. I don't think I'd be able to do that. I generally look for the smallest darkest corner that no one would even think of looking in, and hide until I compose myself.

He talked about this myriad of guys who have been disappointed somehow in such a way, that they  have lost faith, so they drive away any girl who might actually care about them. and just generally treat them as disposables because they are afraid to get "attached." but at the same time they want to find the one that will make it all better.

But isn't it the same for us girls? We get curious, so we start dating, and fall in love with that first guy. The unforgettable one, that inevitably breaks our heart, but we forgive him anyways because he kind of opened that door that we were afraid to open. Then comes guy after guy, some of them jerks, others something else, but all of them wrong in the end. And we loose faith too. There comes that "slutty" period, the time when everything goes, and nothing matters. Of course the magnitude of 'everything' depends on the person and situation, but the general tendency is the same. Usually, at some point you get tired. for some it's earlier, for others later, but you start looking for something real. Now, the real trick is where to find that.
Just like every guy, every girl wants to find a man to balance her life. Someone, who'll accept everything about her, and make her feel just like that. One who would come to her rescue when she needs to be rescued. Or just one whom she can love with all her being and who will love her back the same way. But when you look around, all there seems to be are those disillusioned jerks. (and disillusioned jerk-ettes.)

all of this raises the question: Why the hell do we torture each other, if all we want is the same thing?

socionics

I've just been thinking about life recently. Like the way we act, the way I act, and what I actually think, and want. 
There are several reasons why I've been thinking about this. One of them being this girl on my floor who is into socionics. You know, the whole personality type mumbo-jumbo. On the one side it seems complete crap, but on the other side, it kinda isn't. Like I think pretty much anyone I've taken the silly tests, and they'd always come out with me being a logical sensory introvert, these types tend to be perceptive. Makes sense, right? I don't open up easily, I trust logic over feelings, and in life I rely on experience to maneuver though interactions, furthermore I'm more of an information gathering type. I was well satisfied with that. 
Then that aforementioned friend decided to type me. Well, guess what folks? She's got me pegged as a sensory ethical extrovert, and these are judging. Ok, so sensory stays, but that's the only thing. Apparently I'm extroverted, meaning I easily talk about myself in unfamiliar company. And you know, I actually do. I talk easily. I talk a lot really, but it's usually idle chit chat about stuff I don't care about, or things I don't care about anymore. Basically I talk a lot about the past. It's all I ever talk about. I never really talk about NOW, and the important things. and even if I ever do get into some touchy area, I always stay vague. Maybe those who know me better can guess at what I'm not telling them, and sometimes I like to think they do, but I'm doubtful. I guess I just don't trust people with myself. Is that a bad thing? Next: Ethical as opposed to Logical. That actually makes a lot of sense, especially recently. I'm nothing else of not polite. At least to people I don't know well, or I'm not friends with. It keeps things pleasant and simple, even though I might actually be on the verge of tearing someone's head off because they are annoying the hell out of me, I'll still smile politely and pretend that everything's great. Then after a while I'll find a convenient excuse to go somewhere else, and escape the torture.  So what now? I'm both? but that can't be right. I don't get it. It's like I appear one way (or I want to), but I'm completely different. I guess I know why everything happened this way. It's the moving. I mean how are you supposed to let people in if you know that you'll be gone sooner or later anyways, and none of the people who seem to care so much now, will just fade into this mass of faces that you can barely remember. 
If I think back, I was the most unhappy at the end of living in Dresden and the beginning of State College. Although it wasn't unhappiness per se. It was more like lack of everything, at least it was in Dresden. You see, the last year or so I spent in this sort of limbo, where I didn't know In which country I'd be 2 months from now. I couldn't say bye, and I kinda got stuck emotionally. It got to a point where I stopped looking for cars when crossing the street. I didn't care if I would get hit. I kinda hoped I would, the I could skip school for a while, but I couldn't bring myself to care about much of anything really. I guess it was a bit of a strange state of mind. I don't really understand it anymore. Then we finally moved to State College. I was so angry! There are no words to describe that. I wanted to have nothing to do with anyone. I hated everything! Everyone! I was so angry that every day before I would enter the apartment I would stop for just a second, and make myself smile, so my mom wouldn't see that I never smiled for myself anymore...
See that's another thing about me. I always smile and laugh with others. But often times, as soon as everyone goes away the smile melts away as if it's never been. I wonder if anyone else ever does that...
anyways, I completely forgot what my point was when I started writing this, so I'm just going to stop rambling now =))
toodles!

fuck life

it seems i have really the worst luck/taste in men. this one (according to himself) turned out to have a psychological disorder, which makes him loose all feeling for a girl as soon as he understands that she likes him very much. sorry, but that's fucked up. really... at the very least it's a very creative lie, i'll give him that..

well at least my march 8th is now officially free... asshole...

2 months

That's about how much time has passed since I last posted. Quite a bit has happened really, so make sure you read to the very end =)) . Towards the end of December, exam session approached. And as so often that was quite an adventure. It began mostly with me not really wanting to do my theoretical physics homework, because honestly, it's not only a pain, but also a bore, aside from being rather difficult. So being the lazy piece of human that I am, I ended up procrastinating for rather a bit too long. And my dear seminarist (tiny uptight old lady in glasses who reminds me of a tabby cat.)  has this policy of 5 strikes and you're out. So there is basically no way humanly possible to turn in the homework, even in three sittings. And without turned in homework, you aren't allowed to take the exam. Two weeks before the DEADline (the point where they usually kick you out if you don't have everything done by then.) we were told that our little lady doesn't want to come back to the institute, so we were basically screwed. Thus, we went to our dean's office and the vice went with us to the Theoretical Physics Department, because apparently we had to be given the chance to turn in the hw at the least. We ended up talking to this nice old man and it was magically easy compared to sitting with the old lady. Sadly, somehow Chemical physics didn't go too well either, mostly because I had decided that I knew the subject, and didn't bother studying. So what ended up happening come exam retakes is this:
day 1: take written chem phys exam, then run and finish turning in theoretical physics, which worked well enough. The happiest moment by far, was when the one guy who was in the exact same situation as I and myself went to get our written exam results, and we both passed. THAT felt like an accomplishment. After thoroughly enjoying that brief euphoria, we returned and finished turning in the hw.
day 2: luckily I had run into one of the guys from my faculty the day before, and I got a full set of finished answers to all exam questions off of him, which very much simplified my task that day of cramming all that crap into my brain. Thanks, btw!
on to day 3: the exam. I ended up answering this young guy, who read us a few lectures, and ended up as seminarist for one of our groups. The exam itself was just like all the others really, so I won't bore you further. with that. Needless to say, I passed.
After that, i'm just going to skip a bunch of now completely uninteresting and forgotten stuff, and get to the interesting part.
As you may or may not know, February 23rd is a pretty big deal here. It's called something along the lines of "Day of the Defenders of the Fatherland" (and yes, it's actually the fatherland in Russia, not motherland) and all the girls get all the guys presents (actually I'll go off on a bit of a tangent here...

so February 23rd was coming up, so we have to do something for the boys in our group. So Lera and I banged out heads together, and thought real hard. We had gotten them tea and tiny toy water guns last year, so we need to get them something else this time. Tea was out of the question, as was a sit together, simply because our group isn't exactly the buddy buddy type (to the extent that I haven't spoken to one of the boys for over a year now). Well, so we though t shirts! t shirts are cool right? And we could put customized pictures on them so they wouldn't be impersonal. A different one for each guy and in different colors.
We thought YAY! We got our solution. So, that weekend we went shopping to find plain men's t shirts in different colors, I mean how hard can that be? Right? It's a totally basic item, that exists in multiple variations in every single women's store, so why not the same for men. Well, as you might have guessed, we were extremely wrong. So wrong, that the only plain t shirts we were able to find were like 1000 rubles (~ $35) a piece, and we needed 6, plus the paper for customization. Plainly, we really really didn't want to spend that kind of money on them. We kept looking and looking and looking and looking and.. well you get the idea. About 5 hours into the ordeal, we went onto this discount store, there we came upon the funniest t shirts. All of them black and with pictures; One with a giant hand saying "frick you" and the equivalent written on it; one with a gigantic smiling sperm; one with a zombie squirrel eating a brain; one with "sex, drugs, rock'n roll" and a condom, pill and microphone of the same size/shape; one saying "awesome dude", and one with "hide, devils, god's comming" and an evil smile. well, seeing as we were as tired as we were and the shirts cots 350 roubles (~$12) a pop, we decided that our work was done. We bought them! Luckily our boys liked the shirts very much. They even wear them! Which basically makes me fell like the most awesome person in the history of the earth! (although I know it's a clear exaggeration)

back to the topic at hand: men's day! Unsurprisingly, there was a disco dance night thing in honor of February 23rd on the following weekend, as always for any kind of holiday. There, aside from Lera, who I went with to celebrate her new found freedom, was this random guy that I saw during some of our lectures, and since we were the only ones he knew, he joined us. What followed was Lera's fascination with the mirror wall, so the three of us mainly ended up dancing with our reflections, which was interesting enough, plainly because it's interesting to actually SEE what you're doing. At the end of the evening, we talked a bit while trying to get out and back to our dorm. What followed was the typical progression. He found me on Russian facebook, we talked for a while. Then, as always, we went walking in the woods, ending in what else but a snow fight, consisting of throwing snow at each other and each other at snow =p. The next day, we repeat the pattern with a noteworthy variation: a kiss. Well, yesterday we wanted to watch a movie. Well, we did watch a movie, somewhere in the middle, "Boondock Saints" - it was pretty funny actually. But we basically just spent from 2pm to midnight laying around and talking (once again, during that time I confirmed that I really don't like people, which makes me happy, because I feel normal again). Tomorrow he might come with me to look at one of the base institutes in Moscow. There is going to be some kind of excursion. And on Saturday, we're watching another movie =).
As to the guy himself. He's pretty much what half my friends in the USA were like, so I like to think that I actually understand his manner of communication pretty well. Or at the very least it suits me. He actually watches anime, which surprised me quite a bit. But that is always a great indicator to how open minded people are to various things, and that's always very good. He's a gamer, and a fantasy nut, although he tries to cut down on that. (If you know me, you know that that's a good thing.) Looks-wise, he's pretty cute, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a beard, that looks rather good on him (I usually don't like them, but that's mainly because a lot of guys think that they can pull it off although they clearly can't), and also very toned, which is always a plus. Only bad point is that he's a bit short (although taller than me when I wear flats) but it's not like you can have everything =))