Look at What Russia Has Turned Me Into!!!

Take a look at the picture on the right. Yes that's a bayan I'm PLAYING. Yes that's a telnyashka. Yes that's a godddamn Belomorkanal hanging out of my mouth. How the hell did this happen? I don't know. The bayan was an impromptu gift from my mother. The shirt is for warmth. And the Belomorkanal is because I'm broke and they cost 6 rubles a pack. Russia is contagious ya'll. Don't come here if you don't want to go native. It's impossible not to. You'll get Russianified.

Ok, I'm done musing regarding my transformation.

So I had a brain test done yesterday. An EEG. It was actually way more pleasant than I thought it would be, based on my previous experience with this particular test. But the entire time that I was in there, I was kicking myself for not having brought my camera. You guys should have seen this place. It was something straight out of DeSade's secret torture room. The room was a square. The walls were upholstered with dark brown leather that was held together by gold studs. I was told to sit in what looked suspiciously like an electric chair. Once I was strapped in, the doctor put this contraption on my head (not like in the U.S. where they just attach the wires directly to your head with some sort of sticky goo), and proceeded to attach the wires to the contraption. The thing held my chin in place, so I was only able to moo at the doctor. By the time she got around to rubbing my wrists with alcohol-soaked gauze and then wrapping them in brown leather belts, I began to feel like I'd been tricked, and am actually here for electric shock therapy. I asked the doctor why the hell she was binding my wrists with belts and did she expect me to make a getaway or something. Her response was "Oh, it's for the thing." Very reassuring. Is the thing by any chance the running of a certain amount of voltage through my body without my permission? They do shit like that here you know. This is Russia after all. But then, she just flashed what amounted to a really weak camera flash in my face, and the test was over. I still wish I had had my camera with me. Seriously.

Instead I had my camera with me for this bullshit. It's a statue that's mounted on the wall right outside of my building. I don't know who this bitch is, or what she's looking at, or why she's so depressed, but I figured I'd snap a shot for posterity's sake.

Alright, that's all I've got for today. The fiasco with doctors and pills and freakouts is finally over and I can get on with living in this still frozen hell.

Joke Job and Pedestrian Bastards. And Oh My God the Cars...

People, my job is a joke. Would you like to know what I've been doing here for the past two days? I've been reading a book. At work. Just sitting here, reading a book. That's my job right now. I'm getting paid to do this. Because it's a publishing house. Holy shit I've been in the wrong profession this whole time!

Granted the book is tedious at times, but still. I like reading. And I get to use all them skills I learned in college while studying English Lit. Finally! Still, I just can't believe that they're going to give me money in a week. For this.
Also, I've been helping the corrector with some of the idiotic translation mistakes that she's been finding in some of the texts that she's correcting. That's kind of fun actually. I'm the only person here that's a "natural language carrier." That's one of my titles here at work. Tee-hee-hee.

But generally, since I'm being paid under the table (a salary that I'm pretty sure is higher than my position warrants), and straight out of uber-boss's pocket, I think that what I've actually got here is a mafia no-show job. Like when mafia captains show up to the docks and sit on their ass all day for tax purposes. It's like that, except instead of being in the mafia, I happen to be uber-boss's childhood friend's daughter, and he has to justify giving me fifteen hundred bucks a month.

There's not much else to report, other than the fact that everyone here is still taking one-hour long tea brakes several times a day and that yesterday was super pretty. It was just like being inside of a snow globe.

Also, this morning I was listening to "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns & Roses on my way to work, and found it fully appropriate as a soundtrack. Because like Indian people in Jackson Heights, Russian pedestrians think that each one of them is the only one the street, and conduct themselves accordingly. However, unlike peaceful Indian people, who just sort of ramble along, stop short, and generally move slower than fuck, Russian pedestrians take an entirely aggressive stance. They seem to be fully of the opinion that two things CAN exist in the same space at the same time, and try to prove this constantly by attempting to walk straight through each other (and poor little me). Seriously, if you think that NYC is bad as far as pedestrian speed and traffic go, try walking through a sea of angry, frozen Russian people when it's 15 degrees out. They don't fuck around. They're moving in one direction and you're going with them whether you want to or not.

Don't even get me started on the drivers. These assholes like to play chicken with pedestrians while they are crossing the street. And they always win, one way or the other. And by that, I mean, either the pedestrian manages to scurry the fuck out of the way in time, or the pedestrian gets a brand new car driven up his ass. They never, ever slow down. Instead, when they see a "walker", they speed up. I swear, it's as if they've got that point game going in their head, only serious. Like "4 points for the slow-moving babushka with the cart, 6 points for the pimply punk in the leather jacket, 10 points for the yuppie with the designer coat." This place is super fun!

Day 6

Yesterday, for about 4 hours, there was no water. There. was. no. water. Ok.
Then, some drunken gopnik plowed his car into a telephone line near the Technoloshka station, and there was no internet. It's still acting all hokey. Ok, ok, so, no water, and no internet. That's ok, that doesn't make this Siberia, or way more like the U.S.S.R. than I ever wanted to get this close to again. I'm going to do some breathing exercises now...

...

Ok, I feel a little better. Oh, did I mention that yesterday on my way to my mother's place I was forced to listen to Russian radio for about an hour? Yes, and you know what they said? That they heard that Obama is naming Dr. Dre his Chief of Staff or the Surgeon General or something. Ah, I've missed that subtle Russian racism.

I've taken to reading the St. Petersburg Times. It's a paper for expats, just chock full of useful information. For instance here are some stories and headlines:
-- Medvedev Tells Police to Quell Signs of Crisis-Linked Unrest
Ok, this is a really cute little story about how now that there's another economic Crisis, kind of like there was 10 years ago, with unemployment rates going up, the street crime is going to rocket back up to New York in the 80's levels. I didn't believe my father when he threatened me with this, but apparently it's true. Also, they are planning to revive the Soviet-era practice of compulsory treatments for alcoholics. So that they don't commit street crime. Or something. Anyway, that can't be bad. Oh and by the way, all you hear about here is the Crisis. THE CRISIS. But I love Russian attitutude towards it. It's just very "We're fucked. Again. Oh well. We'll deal. We've been fucked before. Let's get ready for those food rationings." Seriously.

--Communists Use Anniversary To Tell Capitalist World: Told You So!
This might be the best headline and story I've seen so far here. Apparently, tens of thousands of still existing commies here took to the streets on Friday to celebrate the anniversary of the revolution, and were yelling things such as "Capitalists! We recommend you start reading Marx's 'Das Kapital'" Good solid advise from the communists everyone.

Ok, that's it for today.