labor daybor

I found out that, sadly, Labor Day is NOT and internationally recognized holiday. So while my friends in the states have been enjoying a long weekend, my weekend was regular-length and is already over. I did enjoy it, though. On Saturday, I went to the Russkii Muzei (Russian Museum) with a couple of students from my program. The museum is hosting a ginormous Chagall exhibit until the end of the month, including works on loan from other museums (including my beloved Tretiakov Gallery in Moscow!) and private collections. As cool as the Chagall exhibit was, I think I got more of a kick out of the museum's regular collection. Since the museum exclusively hosts works by Russian artists, I got to see many paintings that I had previously only known from my language textbooks. It was really neat to finally see the full-sized murals as opposed to the 3" by 5" prints they wedge between boxes of verb conjugations.Yesterday I went to the gym for the first time since I've been here. I got a membership to a gym called Galaktika. :) It's adjacent to the Petrovsky Stadium, and gym members are allowed to use the stadium's track (provided there isn't a soccer match going on). Since the weather here is still unbelieveably nice, I spent almost two hours out on the track. There's something about a completely empty stadium that's so zen. I couldn't leave. I wanted to stay out there for as long as possible-- just me, the blue sky, and a couple of stray tabby cats that found their way into the stadium.After hitting the internet cafe to check my email and read the news (Bush gets to appoint ANOTHER Supreme Court Justice?! WTF?!), I had dinner with my host family and watched some TV with my host sister's boyfriend, Mitya. He's a pretty cool guy. They started showing that ABC show "Lost" over here (dubbed, of course), and Mitya's almost as big a fan of the show as I am. He kept asking me what was going to happen-- they're only about halfway through the first season over here-- but I refused to give anything away. "Ya nye skazhu! Eto surpriz!"Today-- Labor Day, ahem-- we had our first official day of classes. It went a lot better than I thought it would. While I'm still pretty sure that my Russian is the worst in the group, I don't feel like I'm hopelessly behind. We have two 90 minute classes, followed by an hour one-on-one with a tutor. My tutor, Olya, is really nice. Since it was our first session, we just introduced ourselves and talked about what we would work on this semester. I told her that I really want to focus on improving my conversational Russian. It's always been my weakest area. I know that my problem that I'm so self-conscious about my speaking abilities in Russian that I end up staying pretty quiet during any conversation, and I don't get the practice I need. She assured me that we will work on it and that soon, I will feel comfortable speaking Russian. She even told me that the Russian I *do* speak is almost totally correct, and that I barely have an accent. Zuh?! Um, thanks, but are you sure you're talking to ME, Olya?Do vstrecha!

Hot.

Check out my student ID card.What do you think? Can I pass for a russkaya studyentka?

Zdravstvuyte!

Well it's official: your Bonnie lies over the ocean. Greetings from Russia. Where they keep the cold when other places aren't using it.Actually, the weather's been pretty good so far. What's funny is that it almost seems to be making the locals uneasy. They're so used to things starting to turn ugly right about now that they don't know how to react to summer lasting as long as this.I arrived in St. Petersburg on Friday afternoon with a group of 9 other American students. My host family is just as sweet as can be. I'm living with a mother (Tatiana Nikolaevna), her 2 daughters (Yelena, 21, and Tanya, 17), and their dog Ema. Oooh, boy. Ugliest. Dog. Ever.Not only is the family incredibly nice and congenial, but their apartment is great. It's absolute luxury by Russian standards. I think it's safe to say that I totally lucked out in terms of my housing assignment for this program. Tatiana has even offered to do my laundry!After dinner and a much needed shower (great water pressure, by the way), I went to bed. It was a bit of a fitful night, though, between the jetlag and the early pangs of homesickness. On Saturday, the other students and I were led on a walking tour of the area around the university. Our department's building is right on the Neva River, and the view is amazing. We walked across a gorgeous bridge to the square where the Hermitage is. That's right. The freaking Hermitage is within walking distance of my school. As is the Bronze Horseman. It's such a trip that I'll be spending everyday so close to such iconic Russian landmarks.After the group walking tour, Tanya took me and a couple of other students to the Peter and Paul Fortress. It's a small island that has a prison (where Dostoevsky was held) and a church (where many of the tsars and tsarinas are entombed, including Catherine the Great and, as of recently, the entire Romanov family). We lounged on the island's strip of sandy beach for a while, just conversing and taking in the unseasonably nice St. Petersburg weather.Classes officially start later this week-- we've just been having introductory lectures so far-- but first they're going to test us (exhaustively) to see how our language skills measure up as of now. Wish me luck (I think I need it)!

Goodbye!

"Goodbye" is a word that's been on my mind a lot recently. This month has been full of goodbyes-- some expected, some unexpected, all of them sad. I've known for months now that I would have to say goodbye to all my friends at the end of the summer, but even so, now that the moment has arrived, I feel horribly sad. I know I'm about to embark on an adventure, and that I'll be having fun and keeping busy once I'm in Russia. Right now, however, I'm just worried about making it through the next three days without collapsing in on myself from the sadness of leaving everyone I love. I know we'll keep in touch with email and IM and phone calls. It's just... that ocean is just so large...Goodbye, everyone. My next entry will be from Russia. With love.

Working girl

My six weeks as an "office bitch" began yesterday. I'm working at the Alumni Center, and so far, my work has consisted of making copies, formatting spreadsheets and mailing labels, and printing said labels. There is also some light cutting and stapling. Yep, I'd say my higher education is paying for itself...Sarcasm aside, I'm actually kind of enjoying the work. There's something relaxing about it. It's not like doing schoolwork, because quality isn't an issue. There's only one way to print a sheet of labels, so I don't have to stress myself out over doing the task especially well, like I would if I were writing a paper. I can just turn off my brain and listen to my headphones as I do whatever assignment they give me. It reminds me of that Simpsons episode when they go to Japan, run out of money, and end up having to work at a fish-gutting factory. Bart enjoys the repetitive work and feels like he's found his calling: "Knife goes in, guts come out. Knife goes in, guts come out." That's so me at this job. Except with less guts and more Microsoft Office.

Birthday memories...

Dear, sweet, wonderful im_no_robot threw me a birthday party a couple nights ago-- by far the most fun I've ever had on my birthday. The theme was "Baby's First Birthday," because I've never really had an actual birthday party before. I think it's because I'm a summer birthday. And also because I'm lazy.Anyway, this birthday party kicked ass. It was a barbecue with great food, great drinks, and an awesome soundtrack. A bunch of great people were there, and I really enjoyed spending my birthday with them. And I went absolutely apeshit on the pinata.

House-sitting

I'm house-sitting until the end of the month. It's pretty cool having an entire house to myself. I get to be completely uninhibited-- walk around in little attire (it's cool-- the window shades are closed), go to the bathroom with the door open if I feel so inclined, listen to whatever embarrassingly awful saccharin dance music I like without feeling the need to make lame excuses for it, like, "Um, I just set my music library on 'Random play', and, uh, I think a friend of mine was using my computer one day and she must have, um, downloaded that song without me knowing."The actual owners of this house are really nice, good people. They only set a few house rules, and I'm cheerfully abiding by them, but still I worry that I might somehow unwittingly violate their trust. I don't mean by strutting around in just a towel-- no, I'm cool with that. And if they happened to equip their house with hidden cameras, I still wouldn't feel guilty about it. I mean, I'm not flashing the neighbors or desecrating anything in the house. And actually, I think hidden cameras in this situation would constitute a violation of my trust, as it would be an invasion of my privacy. I think the only legitimate reason for hidden cameras is deterrence; otherwise, it's just voyeurism. Stores have signs saying the place is equipped with hidden cameras so that people will be less likely to steal. If the owners of this house have hidden cameras out of concern that something will get stolen, they need to tell that fact to whomever they are trying to deter from stealing-- in this case, the house-sitter. Especially in the case of a house-sitter-- someone they know will be naked at times in their home (at least to shower). Otherwise, they are just being voyeurs. Whatever. If that's the case, I guess you'll be seeing me on housesittervoyeurism.com or something.Anyway, whenever I look around for an innocent item like a glass or a dishrag or something, I feel guilty opening a drawer or cupboard, like I'm snooping. I honestly have no desire to snoop around here-- I don't care about these people's private matters, and I truly want to respect their privacy. I mean, they're letting me stay in their home, rent-free, and all I have to do is guard the place, collect the mail, and water some plants. But still, that slight pang of guilt is there. Maybe it's a good thing-- just my conscience asserting itself. At least I know I have good intentions here. And since I'm not being paid for my services (I understand that commonly, house-sitters are paid for the chores they do) I think that as long as I abide by the rules the owners set and respect their property and do the chores they asked me to do, I have the right to look for and use, say, a glass (which I will wash after use), and yes, strut around in nothing but a towel. Provided the shades are closed.