Drank Vanilla Coke. Haven't drank pop in 6 years. Wrote an endless blog entry.

I really love New Years Resolutions. And so every year I religiously write down an extra long list of resolutions that I can eventually in November and December look back and laugh at how I didn’t achieve any of them. Actually, that’s not completely true. I guess it mainly captivates me because it seems like I’m on this constant path of becoming “the person I want to be.” I have no idea who that “person” is, but every year I feel like I come closer to being that “person.” I think this has a lot more to do with self acceptance, than with me actually changing a whole lot. Unless the changing is becoming more of a loon. Because that is a fairly constant process.

So I recently looked at the list of resolutions I typed last December/January. It’s also a crazy way to compare your current priorities with your priorities at the time of writing. And the one resolution that really sticks out now as well as the one I remember the most from when I wrote them is #8: become passionate about something. And I realized both then and now how silly it is to decide and put on a list to “become passionate about something.” But I think it was sort of a response to the fact that we’re all so busy at Midd and everyone thinks everything they are doing is really important. And maybe they actually do think what they are doing is really important. Which I guess is good. But I just felt like general busy-ness for no reason or fake passion (which in my cynic point of view is prospering at Middlebury) are lame. If people disagree with me and think that the passion at Middlebury is real and not “fake,” please tell me because that would actually make me very happy. I much prefer apathetic people who don’t really care about anything and are okay with that, than someone who is fakely excited about some cause or movement. I guess I should really be less judgmental. Moving on…

Okay, so back to the “become passionate about something.” I think this is also related to the phase I went through in high school where I decided I needed to develop hobbies. Except the only hobbies I could come up with were various sewing or knitting pursuits. Lame! I wish I could have stuck with the “hobby” problem and not graduated to the much more complex problem of “passion.”

Anyways, I am getting way off topic. I realized recently that my passion is generally Russian-ness. And I am not just referring to vodka. This country has captivated me in a way like nothing I can ever remember. It could just be that this is the first time I have ever lived abroad and so it’s just general infatuation with something so different from the good old U.S.A. But I really feel like if I had decided to go to Germany or Italy or China, it just wouldn’t have captivated me like Russia has. I don’t know why this is. I guess it’s a combination of a lot of different things. The language, the cold and snow and winter-ness, the country’s acceptance of hockey (although there is unfortunately no general acceptance of my female participation in it), the general need for Russians to suffer (I too have been known to make myself miserable for no good reason), the completely crazy-ness that is always occurring (and I say crazy with the most serious respect), the collision of politics and economics and history that still is completely inadequate in explaining this country, the people.

I think especially the people interest me. Like, they’ve all lived through these events and history and political and economic upheaval that completely interest me so much. Tonight at dinner I asked Margarita if she thought life was better during the Soviet Union. The fact that I was able to have that conversation with her absolutely blows my mind. And although she initially said that some things are better and some things are worse, her entire list of examples was how things are worse now…which I guess is sort of what I expected. But coming from a U.S. education, that is not supposed to be the answer. And so that only serves to deepen both my interest in Russia and the developing belief that maybe there really isn’t one “right” answer or one correct political system. I also feel like I am way too affected by the sort of propaganda-esque ness of Putin that occurs everywhere. Well mostly just on the TV stations we watch and on every street corner which is now plastered with “План Путина- Победа России” “Putin’s plan. Russia’s victory.” Also it might be that I have to compare him with our loony Bush. Perhaps in a contest of Putin versus George Washington, Putin would lose. But in a Bush versus Putin contest. Putin is the clear winner, as I see it. Putin speaks three languages. Bush is often unable to speak one. I am going to ignore the fact that Putin only speaks German because of his long KGB work in East Germany.

I also feel that it is sort of unfortunate that the Russian person I spend the most time with is a 70 year old grandmother. I know her current life and life view are probably vastly different from a young or middle aged Russian. One time we were talking about how we all wash our clothes by hand and our conversation teacher was really surprised. So maybe washing machines are more popular than we were led to believe. She was also surprised that none of us had microwaves at our host families. Apparently they might be sort of popular too. So I feel like my time with Margarita is very interesting from a historical standpoint, but maybe not creating the most accurate picture of “modern” Russia. I also wonder where the rich Russians live. Not the really rich ones, but the sort of rich ones. Because there are always Mercedes on the streets. Do they also live in the same apartment buildings like us? What do their apartments look like?

Mostly my deep interest in Russia pleases me so much because I have completely no idea why I began studying Russian. And so this reinforces my life idea that the choices we make are not really that important. That the power we have over our own life is miniscule compared to the power of chance, luck, coincidence, etc. I feel like people could interpret this as me saying that nothing we do ever matters because we have no control over our lives. That’s not at all what I имею виду “mean.” **It also pleases me that even what I am thinking and typing in English, it seems natural to revert to Russian constructions. This is related to what Natasha was talking about with чтобы. I also often want to use бы. Which in 2 letters and you can even shorten it to б for poetic or various other reasons conveys the whole idea of something that could have happened, but it actually didn’t happen and will not happen. But there still was the possibility once of it happening. Or at least in our discussion we are pretending that there was the possibility** Maybe this “our choices don’t matter” life view is my way of convincing myself to worry less about the decisions I make and to just live. But it all works out in the end.

Completely Unrelated Sidenote
**Also why do Russian people always reply to как дела? “how are (your) matters?- i.e. how are you” that things are нормально “normal.” But that всё будет хорошо “everything will be good.” While Americans always when asked “how are you?” say “good.” But we always say “everything will be okay.” Why is everything in Russia only normal in the present but good in the future? And in America everything is good in the present and only okay in the future?

10 Times More Unrelated than Previous Unrelated Sidenote
I am currently listening to a Russian pop/rock song entitled Герпес. Why do Russians sing about STDs? Герпес—Herpes. У тебя СПИД? –Do you have AIDS?

Back on topic:
So Russia has provided me with something about which to be passionate. Is that a legit construction of an English sentence? Oh well. And at some point the question changed from “Can I survive until December?” to “Should I stay for the spring?” This change in outlook surprised me possibly more than it could surprise anyone else. And for approximately a month I have battled with this question every day. Some days the answer was clear, Stay. It’s so much more interesting than Midd. You learn 1,000 new things every day and they’re so much more applicable to life than some political science theory. It’s possibly the one time I will live in Russia. Because playing pick-up hockey at the локомотив rink makes me so happy, in spite of and maybe especially because of all of the strange staring by various Russians. **The staring had actually recently decreased. Everyone who regularly showed up to play on Mondays had become accustomed to the weird girl. Today, we played on Saturday. Some of the same people were there. But there were a lot of new people. The staring, which is actually less staring and sort of just weird prolonged questioning facial expressions, was possibly at an all time high. Also some man started talking to me. I have no idea what he said. I said da. He seemed satisfied with that answer. Also Hug Boy was sadly not present.*** So some days it was clear that I needed to stay.

Other days it was completely clear that I, of course, needed to go home. The most recent example of this day was on Thursday. We don’t have classes on Thursday. And so instead of doing my homework for our classes on Friday. **Russia has also killed my work ethic. It’s IMPOSSIBLE to do work. Perhaps this is why I enjoy this country so much.** So I was bored and trying to fill time until 4:30 basketball practice. So I got on a random marshrootka. Actually it wasn’t random. I have been on this one before. But last time I got off too early and got lost and wandered around for 45 minutes with my hockey stick. So I was sort of trying to redeem myself with a successful riding of the 91st marshrootka. And the entire time I sat there, the inner dialog in my head was “That wouldn’t happen in America. THAT wouldn’t happen in America. THAT wouldn’t happen at home. That WOULD NOT happen in America. That is SO ridiculous and would NEVER happen at home.” Nothing especially annoying or frustrating or even out of the ordinary was occurring. For example we drove past this ugly factory spewing smoke. Except we actually do have huge ugly factories spewing pollution in America. And actually we pollute like, a lot, more than Russia. But I was just completely fed up and so everything became this comparison to the U.S. And invariably Russia ALWAYS (and often unfairly) lost. I can’t explain how strange this was. And at some point I realized that I was doing this. And while I was still frustrated, I was actually just highly amused by the continuous inner dialog of “THAT wouldn’t happen…”

I just realized I have no idea where this blog entry is going. I think when I started writing there was some general idea of what I wanted to say. But somewhere along the way, I lost my thesis statement. Mrs. Williams would not approve.

Okay, I remembered what I was trying to say. So I spent approximately a month battling with, what I lovingly nicknamed, the “stay or go” problem. And I made a lost of lists. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there was really no correct answer to the problem. That really they are both the “correct” answers in their own ways. I have no idea if this whole entry of “Abby’s crazy inner dialogue” is going to interest my readers. I wonder how many people will actually read this. I always like to imagine that lots of people read about my ridiculous adventures. I bet not that many people read this at all. Oh well…

So I came to the conclusion that although I will count Russia as my new found passion, I need to go home for the spring. There are lots of reasons. Most of those reasons aren’t important now that I have finally just made the damn decision.

Possibly the most obvious reasons to go home are that I want to leave while I am still enamored with the country. I want to leave being excited about coming back. I also am leaving because I feel like if I stayed there is the possibility of liking it too much. So much that going back to finish the often oppressive but always comfortable and safe Middlebury bubble would suck. So I am going back to finish college and then who knows…

However, if there is some sort of large violent overthrow of the government with the presidential elections in March, I may never forgive myself for leaving.

Various Other Items of Interest That Are Probably Much More Interesting Than Abby’s Obsession With Russia;

I asked Andrei if he had ever seen a male conductor on the marshrootka. The conductor is the person who walks around and stares at you until you hand her your fare and then she hands you your ticket and you spend a long time adding up the numbers hoping it is a lucky ticket. I think it especially takes me a long time because I always try to do the math in Russian and then I have to give up and start over and do the whole addition in English. He said one time he saw a male conductor on the marshrootka. But he thinks it was a friend of the driver. Then I asked him if he had ever seen a female driver of a marshrootka. And he just laughed at me. But there are often female drivers of the trams. Perhaps this is only allowed because the tram is strictly confined to its tracks.
Also there is this completely strange phenomenon of hand shaking that occurs in Russia. Like men are constantly shaking each other’s hands. As far as I can tell, whenever you meet another man you are required to shake his hand. But only if you know them. If you don’t know them you are just supposed to walk by and completely ignore their existence. So then they shake hands. And sometimes if they are walking in different directions, all they do is shake hands and nod their heads to each other and continue on their way. Also you are required to shake hands whenever you leave a group of other men. One time at the train station 2 guys approached 2 other guys. They all did the appropriate hand shaking. Talked for like 1 minute. Then 3 of the guys left and the other guy stayed behind. And they all had to shake each other’s hands upon departure. And even they realized how ridiculous this was. I think this would be more acceptable behavior if it was only adults who did this. But also little boys do this. Like one day when I was at the elementary school there was this probably 7 year old boy who walked past another boy and he paused just long enough to shake the other boys hand. And then he continued on his path. Also I have seen teenage boys do the strange hand shaking and head nodding and continuing on their way on the street. Also one time when I went to the Lokomotiv hockey game, Andrei had to stop like every 2 seconds to shake some other guy’s hand. But at least sometimes he would stop and talk to them for a few seconds. But then today while we were waiting for them to let us into the rink, these other guys kept showing up and then they would shake Andrei’s hand and then we would all stand there in silence. Some of these guys I have seen multiple times before other times we play hockey. I wonder if they will ever shake my hand. (Maybe I skipped straight to the hug level.) Or if hand shaking only occurs between two men. I don’t know what the equivalent is when women meet each other on the street. I wonder why they just shake each other’s hands and never say anything. How close of a relationship do you have to have to be on hand shaking basis? Like are you required to know the other person’s name? Or is it enough that you show up to play hockey on a weekly basis and so you shake each other’s hands. Also, once again, I want to know if I am on the verge of being on hand shaking status with anyone. Or if it requires true friendship. Or if because I am a woman I am completely forbidden from the hand shaking. Or if it is enough that I play hockey with all of the men that I can join in the hand shaking. Maybe I will just try to shake Andrei’s hand next time we play hockey. He will think I have lost my mind. Also, perhaps the most annoying part about this is that I can’t ask anyone about this. No Russian person would think it was strange and so they completely wouldn’t understand my question. And an American or other foreigner is probably just as baffled as I am by this hand shaking phenomenon. Actually maybe I am the only person who spends so much thinking it. Oh man, I have just written like an entire page about the hand shaking occurring in Russia.
I went to the post office on Friday. Actually I went there on Thursday but there was a really long line, so I left. So I went back on Friday. The one other time I tried to mail letters I showed up during the lunch break. Except the lunch break is like 2 hours in the middle of the day. I feel like lunch is when most people with jobs try to go mail letters. But the post office was closed from like 11:30 to 1:30. Anyways, I wandered around for a while and then returned and everyone stood outside the front door and then they let us and I waited not that long and mailed my letters. My most recent trip to the post office was much more eventful. On Friday there was still a really long line. But I just decided to wait. So we all stood there. But no one said anything to each other. Then I tried to think if we were standing in a long line in the U.S., if people would talk to each other. I couldn’t really remember. Then there were these cases of goods that you could buy. Like there were sort of acceptable things like greeting cards or lottery tickets. Then there were also displays of children’s books, soap, shampoo, lotion, toilet paper, drawing notebooks, pencils, pens, rulers. Who goes to the post office to buy TOILET PAPER. Or LAUNDRY DETERGENT. Clearly no one actually says “Oh we need toilet paper, I should go buy it at the post office.” Mainly because there would probably be a really long line or it would be lunch break. But then I don’t think that anyone gets to the post office, stands in line to mail their letter, and then decides to buy some toilet paper. So we stood there for a really long time and it was completely ridiculous. And fairly often somebody would enter and just skip the whole line and go to the front and ask the one lady working some question. I guess it would be unfair if they had to stand in line to just ask one question. But it seemed unfair that they got to skip all of us. Then this one lady came in with her daughter and went to the front and asked a question. And suddenly the worker lady disappeared for like 5 minutes. Then she reappeared. And she proceeded to unlock one of the cupboards and the little girl had to spend a long time picking which book she wanted. Who the hell goes to the post office to buy a children’s book? And why did that lady get to skip the whole line? I was only consoled by the fact that everybody else in the line started muttering and scowling at the lady while she paid for the book. Also people would get to the front of the line and just be completely clueless. As if they had never mailed a letter before. This other lady was mailing some important letter so she had to put insurance on it or have notification when the letter arrived at its destination. But she was completely incompetent at filling out the forms. So that took forever. Perhaps an American would also have been completely incompetent at filling out a similar form in the U.S. I’m not sure. But I feel like if you are a Russian person, living your entire life in Russia, speaking Russian, probably often using the postal system, you should not be completely confused by some dumb form. This is also related to my surprise when Russian people don’t know what bus or marshrootka numbers to take. Like they’ve lived in Yarosavl their entire lives! One of my friends was trying to get to her new apartment in one of the other parts of the city after we went to a museum and drank tea one day. And she had no idea what number of bus to take. How does she not know how to get to the other part of the city? So I told her that I only knew that 91 went to that part because I have to ride that one to play hockey. Then I am fairly sure she didn’t believe me. So we stood at the stop for a really long time. Then somebody she knew came along. And she asked him. And he told her to get on 91. Ha. I was right. And then we waited and then she got on. And I actually I just remembered this, but she shook my hand right when she was getting on the marshrootka. So perhaps women or at least young women can shake each other’s hands. But it was more like a hand grasp instead of a true organized hand shake. I shall continue to observe and report back on the hand shaking…
*Also I wonder what people who have never been to Russia think a marshrootka is. Because they are awesome and I wish they were in America. It’s like a pulic transportation bus. But it’s more often van-sized. And essentially you just try to fit as many people in at one time as possible. Usually this is fairly entertaining. Unless I have the hockey stick and bag. In which case everyone just stares at frowns at me. And I end up hitting everyone with the bag. I try to keep a closer watch on the hockey stick as I feel like being hit by the bag is more forgivable than being hit by the stick.
Oh man. This thing is so long. I bet if I spent more of my time reading or thinking or talking in Russian, and less of it writing blogs in English, I wouldn’t still be so bad at this language.

There were other important or not so important things that I was going to write about. I don’t remember what they were.

The high heeled winter boots have been so far a fairly successful venture. Except now my left foot is swollen because I got hit by a puck today. So now the boot is tight. And I have this awkward limp that is occurring.
Also I am going to take this opportunity to remind my family members of some of their New Years Resolutions, which I required them all to make.

So, Kit: You are supposed to be brushing your teeth every day (yeah right) and be able to tombstone Stonewall. Also you are supposed to be promoting Artic Slaughter.

Stonewall: I feel like you might have succeeded at some of your resolutions. As opposed to Kit’s completely ridiculous list. So, Stonewall: You are supposed to be visiting and applying to colleges (Good Work!-If I can I would like to suggest a college in a different time zone from Missoula, because it would be pretty lame if 3 of the 4 clocks were on the same time and mine was only two hours ahead. I feel like mine being 10 hours ahead right now sort of compensates for the lameness of 3 being the same time), have a single digit handicap by the end of the summer, and be coaching a squirt or peewee hockey team this winter.

Mama Mayer: You are supposed to have planned the trip to Vermont (which I think I sort of planned), but we’ll give you credit for that. You need to have gotten proposal signatures (Succesful!) Sign up for ski lessons this winter and hiking to the M once a week.

I thought this would get posted on Laurel's birthday. But I got bored of sitting at the apartment so I came to the internet club. I think the people who work here hate me. I am always here. I wonder if I actually do come that often, of if it is just normal and I feel like I am always coming . Regardless.

This would have been posted on Laurel’s birthday. So 20th happy birthday, my dear!!! I wish we could sleep in a tent like we did on my 20th. But we will have to save that for this spring.