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The Highlights

A
Margarita yelled at me for being a hooligan last night. At the time, it sort of pissed me off, but now I just think it’s funny. She gave me a new clean towel which I am then supposed to go and hang on its hook in the bathroom. But when I went to go hang it up, the old towel was still there. So I didn’t know what to do. So I just put the towel back in my room. And then when I was organizing my room, I laid the towel on the floor near the door, so that I would remember to put it in the bathroom. And then Margarita walked by and saw the towel on the ground and yelled at me for being a hooligan and putting the clean towel on the ground. And then I just sputtered (is that an english word? maybe I mean stuttered. Or stammered.) and tried to make up some excuse that I had accidentally dropped it there. Except she didn’t appreciate this excuse. Whenever I do something wrong, she always says something like “See what a hooligan you are when I am not here to keep you in line.” At least that’s what I think she says. This had earlier applied to my inability to finish all of the food I was left for meals when she was not home to supervise my eating, but has now apparently spread to my delinquent towel dropping activities. And my sub par laundry skills. Apparently I don’t wash out the soap well enough from the clothes or wring out enough of the water before I hang them up to dry.

Б
Wednesday was a big day. I decided that I wanted to go to the локомотив hockey game, since they only have 6 more home games while I will be in Yaroslavl, and I hadn’t been since early September. My first obstacle was purchasing a ticket. So I walked to the building where I thought hockey people had said I could buy a ticket. Except the front of the whole building was blocked off for a remont. I realize that’s not an English word. But remont is so much cooler than remodel. Plus I feel like remodel sort of carries the meaning that it might look new and clean and classy after the remodel. But I feel like there are much lower (and more realistic) expectations of a remont. Anyways, then I found these signs instructing to the secret back entrance. At this point, I successfully entered the building. Which had turned out to be more challenging than I expected. And I was actually fairly content with my entering of the building that I still would have been happy if my ticket buying had failed. This will probably not make sense. Russia, or at least me being in Russia, just sort of lowers my expectations like that. Somehow, I think professors at Midd would be less than impressed if I decided that entering the building was really adequate enough and there was no reason to actually go to class or do any of the work. Then, I asked one of the guard women where I could buy tickets for the game. And apparently I had to exit the building and go to another secret back/side entrance. Once again, this was a successful venture and I purchased the ticket.

В
Got on the marshrytka (This word is impossible to type. I always try to type it with the Russian letters even when the keyboard is in English.) And I received a lucky ticket! I also recently realized that the Russians call them счастливый билет (which I guess translates to “happy ticket.”) I am not sure if I am actually receiving an abnormal number of lucky tickets or I just didn’t get one for a long time when I got here. I now have 5 of them. I guess this is enough, that I could sacrifice one so that I could eat it, and see if my luck got really good. But I sort of like my collection of them. Then there was a traffic jam for a long time and then me and half of the marshrytka got off at the stop nearest to the rink. And I bought a program and found my seat and it was awesome. Somehow my actual excitement at doing all of this is really not being translated into my writing. So I will skip ahead to the important parts. They played the Russian national anthem, which is still a very strange and surreal moment. I switched seats with this guy so that he could sit by his wife. Then the wife befriended me. I think that the wife was probably younger than I am. Then there was phone numbers exchanged and popcorn shared and a fateful question asking if I could ice skate. And I said yes. And then the wife said she was very bad. And then I decided to say that I was bad too. Somehow it just didn’t seem right to say, “well, actually I play hockey here at this rink every week.” And then the wife, I think I will now refer to her as Anya, which is her actual name, suggested that we should go ice-skating together. I am unsure if this will ever happen. Mainly because I sort of doubt she will ever call me. But it she does call me, it could be a catastrophe. I guess I will just hope that the fact that I will skate in rented ice skates which will probably be figure skates which will probably be very dull and too small for me, will help to disguise my ice skating aptitude (is that a legit use of that word?). Also, since we were sitting on the first level right behind the net, sometimes an off-shot would hit the glass right where we were sitting. And Anya would scream and I would not really know what to do. Also she kept asking her other friend why there were only 4 of our players on the ice or why the goalie was sprinting towards the bench (on a delayed penalty call) or etc…and I would just dumbly pretend I didn’t understand. But I think I was still paying too much attention to the game and not doing enough giggling and screaming when the puck would approach. Then the husband returned from some undisclosed location (where he had consumed lots of alcohol) and the game ended and we left.

Г
Also the title of this entry is one of the questions Anya asked me. “Are you married?” I had never been asked this question before. So that was good. Then the drunk husband tried to speak English to me. His vocabulary consisted of “My name is Alexander” and something about “Little Lily in Italy.” I think this was some poem he had once memorized. He was astonished that I had no idea what he was talking about. Then they walked me to the marshrytka stop and the girls said “Good bye” in English and the husband yelled “Good morning.” Like I said, limited vocabulary.

Д
The deadline to change my mind and stay the year passed yesterday. So now there has been some calm acceptance of my unfortunate and impending departure. I woke up on Tuesday and there was a lot of snow on the ground and it was a winter wonder land. And I filled out the form to stay the year. But then I calmed down and stuck to my guns (can I say that?)

Е
I am in the process of writing a 20+ pg. paper about Edinaya Pocciya (United Russia). It is a fairly atrocious process that often ends in me playing solitaire or free cell on my computer for hours on end. Mostly it’s hard because although the party is “Putin’s party” and has nearly a 60% popularity rating, with the next popular being the Communists with like 15%, I haven’t met anyone who actually really likes Edinaya Rocciya. Most people just like Putin. But then some people hate Putin. And so I don’t know what I am supposed to think. I guess I’m supposed to not like Putin. But I actually do. Also our politics professor today said that she thinks Putin is going to have a third term. Which would be allowed (sort of) because you are only allowed 2 terms in a row, so if he gave up the position for awhile then he could almost immediately reclaim it. Actually he could pretty much do whatever he wants. **Are American presidents only allowed 2 terms total or 2 terms in a row? Because I thought they were allowed 2 terms total, but other people think it is 2 terms in a row? (I’m sort of embarrassed that I’m half a poly sci major and don’t know this). And then the Russians in this conversation kept talking about how Bill Clinton could become president again. Russians really like Bill Clinton. Also, our politics professor is obsessed with Hillary. And how Hillary will be president and how good old Bill used to be president. Etc…**

Ж (Aiko’s favorite letter!)
Also the president of France (is his title president?) was in Moscow today hanging out with Putin and Zybkov. So the entire country of France being dysfunctional as a result of the strikes doesn’t seem to be affecting him that much. He’s just chilling with Putin.

З
I never go to museums in Yaroslavl. Actually, I went to one of the exhibits in the Kremlin area one time. But my Russian friend Vacilica refused to pay the entrance fee at the gate because she wanted to go pay at the other gate where there were pictures of the exhibits to help us choose. So then the guard woman yelled at us and threatened to call the police. So I am scared to go back there. But there are other museums I should be going to. But whenever I say I will go to a museum, I always would much rather just wander about the city or ride random marshrytkas until they kick all of us off at the end of the route, and then wander more, and then hope that somehow I will be able to make it back into the city. So maybe I will go to a museum this weekend, but I probably won’t. Oh well.

И (this whole labeling the points in Cyrillic was a good idea until I got to where I don’t know the order of the alphabet and now I have to go look in the dictionary to find the next letter. Perhaps I should memorize the alphabet this weekend).
Facebook has some special function where you can enter your maiden name so that it will not be displayed on your profile (because that would disrespect your husband???) but your old friends can search for you with your maiden name and still find you. This is ridiculous. If you are married. You are not allowed on facebook. Period. End of discussion. No exceptions. I know it is a difficult choice. Marriage or the ability to poke people. But you can’t have the best of both worlds. Also, facebook is out of control with it’s like 10 trillion different options/functions/junk.

К
I would like to clarify that Artic Slaughter as mentioned in one of my previous posts as being one of Kit’s New Year’s Resolutions (make Artic Slaughter more popular). Artic Slaughter is a band, and not the actual slaughtering of walruses or penguins. Because that would be atrocious and I would not allow that to be one of his New Year’s Resolutions. Also, I think by mentioning Artic Slaughter on this blog, I have done more for their popularity than Kit ever did. Kit, do they still exist? BURN!

Л
The drunk men on the marshrytka this morning approved of my hockey playing-ness.
-Man 1: A girl playing hockey. Нормально. Which I guess translates as “normal” but I feel like it has more of a “good” meaning.
-Man 2: Yes. Нормально.
(5 minutes pass)
-Man 2: How do you know she plays hockey? Maybe she plays basketball or football.
-Man 1: She has a hockey stick.
-Man 2: Oh.

Also I decided that I am going to abandon my use of the word “soccer” because the English game “football” has essentially 0 contact between the foot and the ball, and the game which is all about the foot and the ball we call soccer. So now I will call soccer, football and I will call football, American football.