Why skipping out on work or other responsibilities just ain't the same as you ... (shudder) exit your twenties!

Many of you may have been expecting me to blog about how awful St. Petersburg is and how it is just not good enough.  How the Hermitage and her candy blue-green paint can't seem little more than pukey, forest green in my eyes.  How Russia's second city is filled with an overabundance of aggressive females who can't find a man and wreak havoc as sluttish drunks with hepatitis C infected bodies of the most horrid of succubi .  How such common piquancy of "the wonderful, breathtaking historical sites" (said like the most stereotypical British introvert from a mid-sized city, unable to behave assertively abroad or like the most sheltered, American Jesus family from the heartland of the country.  Naturally.) just can't manage to stimulate my touristic, intellectual, or otherwise INTERESTED g-spot.  Sick point made there, but the hating of the Kultural Kapital will wait for another day ... well, actually, I feel the urge to hate on it every day, but that simply boils down to my obsessiveness.  An even sicker thing for which this blog has little space.

So there's a book now?!  Please tell me it's just business ploy to attract people who don't read ... but would upon seeing this.

No. This post is different.  It's about how I've basically become adult-like.  How going for any period of not doing my occupation, be that a student, worker or whatever else, makes me feel utterly useless.  Such was not true when I was sixteen or seventeen when I could lie on the couch and continue to play video games.  My only real fear was the chagrin of my parents, although I much more likely received permissive encouragement from my grandparents.  I was not usually made to feel guilty or half as bad for not doing something less productive.  If I was, I could get over it.  I could have a beer or two with friends and complain about how the higher-ups done us wrong!

But now that I am approaching thirty (disbelief, single tear), I am beginning to stop feeling that way.  While it's always been important, work has now become so much more vital for me.  Taking vacation time is at least twice as calculating an effort.  Realizing how much you could be out of pocket for taking even a three day trip generates even more unnecessary fear.  Why go on a trip in the first place if planning for it wrecks your nerves?? 

You get more set in your ways.  Things begin to seem harder than they were before.  While saying that they are Kafkaesque is not quite right, they just get to be a pain in the derriere.  Thus, the planning for a vacation becomes too much and you realize that it's better for your mental health to just stay where you are.  Of course, you end up needing time off for seeing new things, yadda, yadda, yadda.  But it just becomes ever the more onerous when you part with your routine.  I mean think of Yelena X.  Even if she only serves hotdogs, that pre-babushka at least derives some comfort in serving the umpteenth thing of questionable meat day in and day out.  No surprises (those would happen in the toilet of an unfortunate customer ... ).  No readjusting.  No attempts at begrudging sympathy/empathy of someone of a different culture or background, who will always remain a sh!t-eater.  Period.    No, Yelena X serves those hotdogs because it's what she knows and because it's her safety. 

In short, I guess my main point is that skipping out on your duties just gets harder when you it hits you that you're an adult.  It doesn't get harder so much for people around you as it does for yourself.  Whether that's some vaguely related separation anxiety about leaving your routine or simply fear that gets collected with age, the result is the same.  Changing and readjusting is just harder.

And that's my rant.  Happy Autumnal times, everyone.

Useless ranting time

Greetings, everyone.  As usual, I have been extremely busy, but now I am under a good deal of stress that I won't rant about on my blog.  It wouldn't be of any interest to you all and I really don't feel like repeating any of it at the moment because it's, well, too F^CKING serious!  Instead, I am going to go on a bit of ranting rampage on a topic that is much less serious:  Britishisms/British English words and Americanisms/American English words.  I just completely hate some of them!  And when I say hate I mean pull my hair out, wear a white sheet as a toga, and run around the neighborhood like long gone-crazy religious zealot that resembles some character out of The DaVinci Code.  Now, don't get me wrong.  There are some Britishisms/words/expressions that I love such a f@nny magnet, titty-f^cking, and agony aunt.  And there are some Americanism/words/expressions that I will defend tooth and nail ... and may even rip out yours in the process -- nasty h^e, sidewalk, and oh, HELL no! 

Yet, there are some expressions from both sides of the Atlantic that should just be banned from modern English.  Moreover, anyone caught saying these expressions too many times or caught saying them in anything less than an extremely contrite way should receive a huge scarlet 'I' for idiocy permanently branded on their forehead.  After they're done begging me, their Supreme Master, for forgiveness by grovelling on the ground ... in the rain ... and when there's extreme heat.  Only then!!!

So here they are.  My lists of unimportant speech to rant out about.  With unimportance.  I'll start with the Britishisms because it's important get to the source country of such filth.  And then on to the Americanisms -- no one likes a little sibling who just can't do something right!  By the way, these are in no particular order.  Just my top ten as I have been randomly able to spew forth.







HORRIBLE BRITISHISMS/WORDS/EXPRESSIONS/ETC.





1.) courgette -- to my North American readers this is "the British" for zucchini.  Now though it's of French origin, it sounds absolutely awful in English, no matter your accent.  I think of a Chevy Corvette when I hear this word, but the association of poor ghetto or white trash mobile comes to mind instead.  And it just doesn't have the same culinary inspiration-like sound that zucchini does.  When I hear the Italian derived zucchini, I think of an ingredient in a wonderful meal that I have had after listening to Luciano Pavoratti sing or Vivaldi's Four Seasons played.  With courgette, I picture some trash mobile that Randy decided to let his daughter Ella Mae drive to her prom. 

2.) diary --  unless you're a seven year-old girl talking about how many teeth you have lost so far or why that boy sitting behind says you smell like poo-poo, then you have a journal.  Or a blog.  Or planner.  OR ANYTHING ELSE TO RECORD YOUR THOUGHTS WITH THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SOUND LIKE YOU *STILL* HAVE A SET BED TIME.

Uh oh.  It doesn't have a lock on it!  Don't let the boss get a hold of it!

3.) It's rather warm isn't it? -- And you're rather understating aren't you???  No, it's not rather warm.  In fact, it's pretty f^cking hot in case you haven't looked outside and seen the sun blazing.  Oh, and maybe you missed the news report about the wildfires??  Those don't start because it's "rather warm."  Trust any meteorological authority on that one!

4.) At the end of the day... -- This is so long-winded that I just want to discontinue listening to any utterance you want to make after it because, well, at the end of MY day, I don't need to hear anything else that will bring me down!  Although, it's nice to know you have a concept of time and that you seem to be aware of when people might want to GO TO SLEEP.

5.) zebra crossing -- This one is just so ridiculous.  Yes, there are stripes on what you mean to call CROSSWALKS.  And not all of them have stripes.  And just because something has stripes it is not a zebra.  This thing is meant for humans. Unless you live in the African savannah or a zoo, then there is no need for anything called a *zebra* crossing. 

6.) pavement (meaning sidewalk) -- this words describes the material.  Plain and simple.  It gives little indication that you are situated on a designated area for pedestrian use.  It's vague.  It's unclear.  There are a lot of things on the pavement such as cars, bacteria, pebbles, and manhole entrances.  'Kay, let's focus on the people walking area!!

7.) That's brilliant! -- What?  It's not that great.  And even if it were it's not like I made some sort of significant discovery.  Now please, go back to playing wacky mad scientist and save all your hyperbole for that.

8.)  rubber (instead of eraser) --  Where can I begin with this one??  We do NOT use condoms in the classroom unless it's sex education day and we're putting a special cover on the bananas!  All I can say is that I was caught off guard when one of my school age students in Russia asked me for a rubber during class.  Of course, I knew she meant to use the much more acceptable word ERASER, but I couldn't help but think, "Oh, no, I can't give you those things because then the police will find out, my life will be turned upside down, and I'll be branded some sort of international sex offender.  That's not the highlight of my teaching career that I want and I'm afraid you'll just have to make do crossing out your written mistakes instead."

9.) toilet (meaning the room/area instead of the receptacle) -- Alright, so you have to go to the toilet?  Okay, thanks for sharing.  We all REALLY wanted to know that you have specifically indicated that you are going to an area where you have to take care of post-dinner time bodily movements.  Are you going to change your tampon, jerk off, or purge that pasta so your "significant other will love you" while you're at it?  I mean you don't want to leave out any important information for us.  Saying excuse me and walking away is just not clear enough I suppose!

10.) the dog's bollocks --  Though we have become more progressive and open-minded, I think people would much rather you say "that's great" or even something stupid like "super duper" versus reminding us how much canines enjoy licking their testicles.  Especially if Fido has been neutered, this is not the best expression to use to describe how wonderful you think something is.  Unless you have some strange obscure love for the male castratos of the 17th century who wanted to retain their soprano status due to women being banned from performing.  Then, alrighty!






HORRIBLE AMERICANISMS/WORDS/EXPRESSIONS/ETC.



1.) Have a nice day! -- You don't want me to have a nice anything, Mr. Shopkeeper.  Didn't I just complain that you were working too slowly?  Haven't you been working over twelve hours because you've had to reduce staff as the result of one of the worst economies we've ever seen OR how you're too cheap to hire someone?  Mr. Shopkeeper, a simple "here's your receipt, sir" will do just nicely.  No need to be fake and out of touch with how you really feel.  I'm sure you watch Dr. Phil or Oprah on the TV in the staff room when there aren't any customers and they'll tell you the same F^CKING thing!!

2.) MM/DD/YYYY versus DD/MM/YYYY -- Do I really have to explain the counter-intuitive logic of this one?  Smaller units to larger units, just like how we count things!!  Why change what learn to do as children???

3.) hella -- This is one of those pseudo-swear words that people say to give the impression that they're a bad@ss, when they're really just the God-fearing son or daughter of some immigrant family grocer/convenient store owner or if they're trying to sound "modern hip" like Snoop Dogg or if they want to sound "West Coast."  Oh, I know.  Booooo.  A bit politically incorrect there, but come on!  We all know it's true and who are you trying to impress??  If you TRULY want to be "real" like the D-oh-double-gizzle then just say (*$^)(3^7(#$^&$@#%^$@ and #&(@*$&@(*^($*^ and mother-)*$&@(*&$(*@^&.  'Kay??  I apologize for that barrage of punctuation and symbols but I have to make a point somehow!

4.)  hospitalization -- Awful on so many counts.  Aside from just being one c^nt scrape of a word to roll off your tongue, it sounds too d@mn serious!  What's the problem?  Do you have ebola and can't leave some UN medical ward set up in the Democratic Republic of the Congo?  Have your parents finally sent Aunty Em to the looney bin never to return while simultaneously pumping her up with anti-psychotic medicine that will destroy whatever little she had left of a libido??  Then don't use this word!

5.) my bad -- Okay, let's not change and adjective into a noun please.  Just because you went to one of the worst high schools in the district doesn't mean you have to flaunt your ignorance of grammar.  And my hatred of this expression is strongly connected to #3 as well.

6.) whatever (said as a single statement) -- I'll admit it.  I have said this and I should have been punished.  Severely.  Aside from the sheer laziness of this word, whoever says it indicates this about themselves -- "I'm too stupid or inconsiderate or weak to tell you why that bothers me."  Now, I don't necessarily want an explanation of why something displeases you, but by gahdz, have a better defense or the courage to say I was right the entire time.  What makes this awful word even worse is putting too much stress on the second syllable.  Do you really want to send chills down people's spines by doing that???  But, uh, I guess you do.  WhatEVAAAAA!!

7.) OMG -- Okay, writing this is bad.  Uttering this is way beyond a cardinal sin.  Which you don't even know what that is ... so HOW can you say OMG???  And please don't say this as a substitute for "Oh my God!"  Acronyms have much less of an effect on people's perception of the severity of a situation and make the meaning or intention more vague.  AND if you even doubt the existence of any god, don't even entertain using this.  We'd much rather hear, "Oh my non-being-somewhere-up-in-the-sky-over-a-Polynesian-atoll" ... than OMG.  We might even laugh positively at your ingenuity too!

8.) fanny pack --  Vile.  Offensive.  W.R.O.N.G!!!  How on earth could you name bag or pack you keep on your waist after something that means c^nt to fellow native speakers???  Or even if thought it meant one's behind! And don't even buy such a thing if it's pink and call it by this name!  And do not, do not, do NOTTT  for the love of all that is sacred ask your children to put things in your fanny pack for you ( I have heard and seen this before!).  They are innocent beings and it's best not to advertise to the world, however inadvertently, that you are Michael Jackson reincarnate.  Call it a bag.  Simply put.

She appears to have it positioned in the right place.  Or the wrong place.  Wherever she may be traveling.

9.) could care less -- Why even tell us you could care less?  That means you already care, even if it's just a little.  But you have still decided to focus on it and therefore show it's meaning and importance.  Which is something you did NOT intend to do in the first place.  So, please, don't care less about it.  Don't care for it at all.

10.)  that's karma or I believe in karma -- I do ever so appreciate you telling me that revenge or retaliatory behavior one has received is the same thing as an ancient Hindu or Buddhist philosophy that takes cause and effect into consideration.  I mean, simply saying "what goes around comes around" isn't enough, is it?  You have to tell me how wise and worldly you are.  Well, since I'm talking to such a knowledgeable person as you, let me tell you that I believe you should commit an ancient Japanese thinggamajiggy caled seppuku, or ritualistic suicide that can garner you respect.  Or what about sati, the once practiced, and also Hindu, ritual in which people threw themselves in a large fire ... okay, only widowed women did that, but I'm sure we could make an exception in your case, should that not apply to you.  So, really.  I do thank you for telling me how falsely deep you are!



Whew ... ... as you can tell I've been under some stress and I just had to let that flow.  Until next, be that "at the end of the day" or when you feel like having a nice salad with courgettes!

A midsummer's heating up

Many apologies for not blogging in nearly a month!  Along with the temperatures my workload has significantly increased.  And I have been enjoying both.  Enjoying them both tremendously, as a matter of fact.  So much of that has to do with my location of course.  Moscow is just one of those places that despite its flaws, I love more and more over time.  Be it discovering a new tram line, a new park, b1tching out (or even verbally abusing...) some out-of-line babushka or dedushka to get what you want, knowing there's money EVERYWHERE, or even falling asleep on the labyrinth-like metro and somehow always waking up in for your stop, Moscow is a place that once it is felt, everything somehow just comes full circle.  Of course, this does not always happen with ideal amount of delicacy but it just somehow does. 

And now that it's summer, I feel a lot more sentimental about this place than I would normally and I appreciate it so much more because:


1) Moscow shows itself as a sort of "city of dreams" with all the festivities and commerce projects get promoted outdoors now that the weather is nice.  For instance, I just randomly came upon a some authentic Singapore Cuisine demonstration in the city center.  Okay, Moscow's not New York (well ... is New York really a city of dreams?  I digress), but after being in that not-to-be-mentioned village up north, it was so nice seeing foreign interest in investing in Russia.

2) Moscow moves fast.  The escalators on the metro.  They way people walk.  How decisions are made.  Even if it's wrong, fast is just fun!  Okay, that sounded a little risque, but I swear I didn't mean it that way.  Honest!   Since coming back here, I feel like I've been allowed back in the AP classes instead wasting away in a "special education" zone where watching molasses move is more hopeful than anyone trying to get work done.  No (sarcasm laden) I'm not talking about you-know-where. 

3) Moscow is grand, imposing, Soviet, and doesn't give flying flip of a flapjack if you like it or not, BUT is still somehow accepting of her shortcomings.  Despite all the extreme wealth, poverty, etc. Moscow is somehow oddly modest and can take your worst insult of her only to excrete it, thereby thwarting your attempt at criticism.  No need to resort to a reactionary response indicative of a place with an inferiority complex that lines every orifice of its habitation from the grand palaces to rectum-inspired neighborhoods only twenty minutes away.  (Reeeeowww!!  Scratch!)

4) In Moscow, there is a growing understanding that people are in charge of their own lives.  It's up to them to change things.  And things can actually change in Moscow.  It might be slow, but the process of learning how to do this is happening faster all the time it seems.  If there's broken glass, it gets swept.  If there's a a problem with public drinking, parks close off and monitor entrants.  If an airport has slow service, more staff can be hired to improve it.  It's not perfect, but I know Moscow is getting better at functioning.  No, I just feel like it's changing.  Unlike it's northern disgruntled, slothful half-sister, Moscow is simply not content looking like a beautiful courtesan complacently comfortable with reclining against her c^m-stained, Romanov dynasty-looking pillows.  (Fangs!!  Hiss!!)

Now I fully feel why snakes produce venom.  Some environments call for it and why try to force one into withdrawal??

Whoa, who knew I'd be bashing that place so ... violently??  I just appreciate being back here so much and the summer brings out this city for all the potential it is has.  Moscow, you'll forever keep my eyes open and embrace me with your charms, of which many are waiting to be discovered.  It's not just the metro that's a labyrinth.  The whole city really is and something new and good is always waiting around some bend.  This is one maze I'll happily continue down, though without the unexpected giddiness of a naive Icarus-like character.  Cynicism and grouchiness always come in handy in the end.  ;)

In front of MGU University Tower and Vorobyovy Gory at the Moscow River and Third Transport Ring, May 2010 -- One of my favorite views on earth in the best of seasons.

And the summer cold has spontaneously resolved ... mostly

Just a brief blog posting as I may not have to time post anything for a bit.  My summer cold that caused the most pinching laryngitis you can think of basically up and left!  Largely.  I hope that my rhinoviral friend is not just taking some time off because he feels that he has accumulated employee-entitled leave.  I think that he cleaned out his cubicle and set up shop elsewhere.  Preferably with any student of mine who has refuses to do their homework. >:)

But in my sick spell, I learned that there is more than one way to spread a virus or some bacteria to your fellow human being.  Rather than coughing on or carnally enrapturing them, you can also buy the disease, fungus, bacteria or virus for them at http://www.giantmicrobes.com/ !  Washable toys that are home and office-friendly (as long you say they're something else ... tehe) and something that's a part of the human experience!  Who says germs and the like are so bad??

My personal favorite is Polio here.  Classic 1950s -- around when hula hooping was a sport and Frank Lloyd Wright was architecturally edgy!  Iron lung costs extra.

E. coli -- not the best weight loss supplement, fyi.

Avian Flu -- making the mid 2000s Asian-viruses chic, like Ang Lee movies, Korean dramas, or classic Godzilla.

Chicken pox -- A childhood favorite, for me circa 1988 at age 6.

Chlamydia -- we've all had those one night college mistakes.

The Common Cold -- timeless ... and always will be.

Ebola -- African themes and primitivism go in and out of style.

Herpes -- reminding us to be careful under the mistletoe come the holiday season...

Penicillin --Fear not!  They even have some good guys!

Salmonella -- because you can never overcook that "chicken " you bought at the pan-Asian supermarket.

Well, that's it for now.  We will never be disease-free, but we can certainly enjoy life ... or have to work away in spite of them.

Summer colds and good times

Summer in Moscow has been going well.  I'm busy with work, making money and not in a completely broken, dysfunctional place.  And you'd think that I might be saying otherwise.  I have had the worst laryngitis I can remember after catching the Moscow-summer-energy-draining cold, which is not good if you're a teacher.  I've also had tons of teaching hours at different locations and get home feeling deader than John McCain's chances at ever becoming president of the United States.  I've even had my hot water turned off for a week due to annual maintenance by the Moscow municipal authorities.  Yet, I'm actually upbeat.  Though, I must say that I want this cold to go away NOW and that alcoholic consumption doesn't help it.

Depending on our students, we all need this from time to time.

Seriously.  Beer can actually make a cold worse (though a shot of pure vodka make actually have antiseptic benefits).  Why, I don't know, but I assume it's because you begin to ramble on when you're trashed further damaging your throat.  And with all the things there are to complain about in Russia, being dry is like trying to train for an Olympic sport!

But Moscow in the summer is not just about enjoying your booze before you think about where you want to go for the weekend.  It's also about hanging out some of the many parks!  Again, I live across from one of the best in Moscow and have made it a habit to take a stroll through it at least once a week.  I don't want to take it for granted before heading back to Petersburg where there is a dearth of many parks even half as civilized.

Ahh, summer rays on summer days.

And yes, there are definitely worse times and worse places to be working off a cold that refuses to be defeated. :)

Feeling renewed in Moscow

After being back in Moscow for a week, I can say unequivocally that my life is better here than in Petersburg.

And so I shall do one of my favorite things:  enumerate why!

1) It's cleaner
2) The people are more normal (and there are honestly fewer lower class, from-a-different planet types too).
3) Personal space is a little bit more respected.
4) Far fewer alcoholics out and about.
5) IT'S CLEANER!
6) Work and money are actually valued and sought after.
7) There's less arrogance (Ouch...)
8) Sunrise isn't as ungodly early.
9) People don't stand in the f^cking way on the street, escalators, etc. without making any visible effort to move.
10) Living conditions are better
11) THINGS WORK MORE!  I can't tell you how annoying it was to see ATMS and other computerized screens with "Ne rabotaet" on them in the Kultural Kapital.
12) People p1ss in public less -- like, not right in front of you.

At Finlyandsky Vokzal -- On the train tracks too! 

13) Moscow isn't some regionally bifurcated place and it's easy to escape to some other area that's decent;  in Pburg it's the Center (and even then at times ...) and the crack littered ghettos.
14) Far less at-talking!
15) More greenery.

Although to be fair, there are some clean (!) green spaces in Petersburg that attract a nice "clientele ".  Just past Sennaya Ploshchad' Metro, Yusupovsky Sad is a good place to relax as the days get warmer.

16) Far fewer mosquitoes.
17) Fewer Neo-nazi, skinheads.
18) Less teen/young pregnancy.
19) Far, far, far fewer broken windows!
20) The cars are in better condition.

Outside my apartment on Vladimirsky.  These are a dime a dozen here.

Okay, I'll stop for now.  I typed that list in less than ten minutes so imagine had that been an hour!  But I guess the most important point I want to make, is that I am glad to be back and out of Petersburg.  No place is perfect, but I have motivation and respect for my surroundings, something I don't have much of in Petersburg.  In fact, I can probably count the number of times on my hand, one of which was my last day there!  Oh, and another time was when I was on Dvortsovy Ploshchad' and saw, extremely uncharacteristic for the city, a little bit of cultural diversity.  I could only find one picture from that time, but it says something.

In the Soviet Union, this would have been unthinkable and in any part of Russia today, it's certainly the odd sight.  Of course, the bulk of today's racism, is sadly aimed at Central Asian and Caucasian people.

Now that I'm in Moscow, I can just be.  I don't have to make a concerted effort to look on the bright side.  I don't have to tell myself it's not that bad.  I don't have to walk around the city taking pictures of the place as if it were a crime scene.  And, even to be even more brutally honest, I don't have to put up with being in a broken city that is at least ten years behind its more accomplished sister.  Petersburg doesn't even have a world famous pop tribute to it either -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPRxoncWiSA.

Plus, I'm staying across from this wonderful park.  What more can I ask for? :)

Church of the Ascension -- Kolomenskoye Reserve, Moscow

Estonian break time, part IV -- An impromptu return!

Greetings, viewers.  I am writing to you from Moscow in much better spirits because I know that I am not trapped somewhere I don't want to be in the summer.  I finally managed to leave Petersburg, but it wasn't exactly an enjoyable departure.  I had a big suitcase and the dedushka who was in the same compartment as I tried to scold me about it!  Well, let's just say I had to re-educate this old man a little bit and that he eventually understood *very clearly* that his bygone method of smothering everyone in his presence was little more than a f^cking nuisance.  Of course, that didn't stop him from blabbering to , no, I mean AT, everyone in the compartment of stories about his past and the how great the White Nights are.  In other words, THINGS WE ALL DEMONSTRABLY COULD NOT HAVE CARED LESS ABOUT HEARING BASED ON OUR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AND NON-RESPONSIVENESS ALONE!

I actually like a little bit of darkness at night, not Petersburg sunrises that say 4:40AM, but really brighten an hour earlier with various birds as alarm clocks.  Yes, little sparrow we know you have to be the first to find a worm and regurgitate it into the inchoate little beaks of your offspring; yes, gull family we all understand that you have to be the first the to rummage through the countless piles of Petersburgian trash and fecal products.  Yet, in all my frustration with Father Time on the train talking as if it were his civic duty, he actually tucked the 40 year-old man in the bunk below into bed me as if he were five.  I, however, rebelliously sat up, texting and surfing the net on my phone like a teenager.  To the dedushka, I was a lost cause.

But from Moscow, I can tell you about how I returned to Estonia.  I was back in Petersburg for about two weeks.  I had spare time because 1) I had to wait for my replacement ATM card to be shipped and 2) my classes were over.  In the back of my mind, I kept on thinking should I really have come back?  Is toughing it out really a good thing?  I tried to answer those questions affirmatively, but I had that lingering feeling that I should just dart out again.  I think what really tipped the scales for me was attending a visit by the esteemed Governor of Saint Petersburg, Valentina Ivanova Matviyenko to my university ... and how falsely imperious Petersburg leadership was presenting itself to me firsthand.  It was like they still thought, "Well, Petersburg is named after a tsar, so I think I'll be one too!"

Oh, Ms. Matviyenko you say the funniest things!

Exiting for more important matters.

Map of Narva ... by the way, you can walk to Russia!

After seeing yet another aspect of Petersburg that made me want to see the canals overflow and submerge the city, I just had to leave again.  I bought a bus ticket to Narva, the mysteriously interesting border city that is just barely in Estonia.  With most people speaking Russian, Narva has been a strategically important place in  throughout history for wars with the Germans, Swedes, Russians, Danes, etc.  Nowadays, it is a peaceful place with a river that separates it and Ivangorod, Russia.  When you walk around Narva, it's strange to see Russia only a few meters away.  And with Narva-Herrmann Castle and Ivangorod Fortress adjacent to each other, it's perhaps the coolest, most fascinating border crossing there is.

Many Russians who live in Narva walk in and out of the two countries almost every other day.  And since I had a multiple entry Russian visa, I thought I might as well too.  In fact, the border crossing seemed like one big happy village!  Neighbors in Narva or Ivangorod would often run into each and say hi as they were crossing the border, sometimes in opposite directions!  I couldn't help thinking how this would be next to impossible between the United States and Mexico, among other places.

All this harmonious border crossing aside, my time in Narva was best defined by castle viewing.  The imagery was almost fairy tale like, even, as I described to my friend, semi-ethereal when looking at the medieval buildings amongst the landscape.  And then there was simply the surreal feeling of looking at Estonia and Russia at the same time.

Narva, Estonia (left) & Ivangorod, Russia (right).  As I will continue to say, the coolest border crossing ever.

From Narva-Herrmann Castle -- The dandelions of Estonia in the foreground, Ivangorod fortress in the background.

Stunning view of Ivangorod Fortress from atop Narva-Herrmann Castle

Narva-Herrmann Castle

Inside Ivangorod Fortress -- spring has sprung

Inside Ivangorod Fortress

Russia (left), Estonia (right) separated by the Narva

I had to end my castletime fun in Narva and head back to Petersburg ... wait, no, who am I kidding?  I decided to spend one last night in Estonia and took the bus in the opposite direction to Tallinn instead!  If it's one thing living in Petersburg has taught me, it has been to drag my feet and procrastinate like there's no tomorrow (or should that be "to procrastinate like there's a tomorrow and another and another and another, etc.?).  I got to Tallinn and decided to 1) see Kadriorg Palace which I didn't last time and 2) stroll, meander, and be merry with copious amounts of red wine in Old Town till X hours in the morning.

Kadriorg Palace, Estonian National Art Museum

Kadriorg Palace -- drama of the historical kind

Old Town Tallinn -- Street performers love touching tourists...

Old Town Tallinn -- Jewelry for your pet

Old Town Tallinn -- About halfway through my wine consumption at around 11:30PM

Tallinn -- shopping carts and Soviet architecture.  After my wine consumption

The next morning, I did actually head back to Petersburg and despite an 18hr, super intensive hangover from well over ten glasses of red wine, -- which has allowed me to self-impose a temporary moratorium on anything containing alcohol -- the bus ride back was fast and enjoyable.  I got my Estonian high and the fact that I only had a couple days left in Petersburg before breaking for the summer made me not dread returning.  For this, I sincerely thank Tallinn and Estonia, and see that they have now become a spot of refuge when the Kultural Kapital gets me down.

A brief interlude -- on leaving Petersburg for the summer

Before I get to part IV of my Estonian trek, I just have to write a brief blog saying that this is my last day in Petersburg until I return in August.  I will be back down in my beloved Moscow!  But before you think this entry is going to be some sort wish to see Petersburg and her yokels sink rapidly into the Neva as I depart only to look behind me at the submerged destruction, you're wrong.

My last day in Petersburg was a good day.  In fact, it was a really nice day, something that I have rarely experienced here.  It included a boat tour, a satisfying dark, Czech beer, balmy temperatures and pleasant company.  While this wonderful day has not made me magically enamored with or even begin to like St. Petersburg, it did allow me to be able to leave the city on a high note.  Moreover, I was able to look at the buildings and places that I had walked by in the frigid winter, unhappy and scornful, in a different, more conciliatory light.  In my eyes, they had transformed into pieces of architecture enjoyed by their spectators and not just prison like facilities reminding me of Petersburgian disrepair.

My time here has been challenging and best described as an all too often slow-burning malaise.  Not today though.  Today, I was truly ready to come to terms with this place, however momentary.  And I am proud to say that my earlier memory of Petersburg when I came here on a freezing, late January night ...

The "lobby " of where I first lived (read:  Siege of Leningrad $h1t-hole)

... can't compete with my latest one on this spectacular early June day ...

Being led by Popeye on our boat tour.  Kazansky Cathedral to welcome us.

And I leave the summer to you, Petersburg.  May your White Nights be enjoyed by people other than I and may our truce be glorious.  Poka.

Estonian break time, part III -- Do I have to leave??

I arrived back in Tallinn on a beautiful mid-early May afternoon.  I stepped off the bus at the Central Bus Station almost as if I were a local.  As if I done it so many times before and that a seat in an old town Tallinn beer garden was awaiting me.  Yet, that nervous looming thought of having to return to Petersburg was in my mind and I really couldn't avoid it no matter how much I tried.  No matter how much I walked around futilely trying to prolong my wonderful break time, I had to go back.  I think the moment that I had to grow a backbone and return was slightly after I took the picture below in Tallinn's old town that evening.  I guess motion of the bicyclists was a cue to me that it was time to head back to my hostel, go to bed and wake up early in the morning for the seven hour bus ride.  Party time was over.  Back to the reality of Petersburg ... which in many ways is straight out of a Dostoyevskian dream sequence.

But I don't wanna go!

The next morning, I got on the bus at 7AM, and hit the Petersburg-Tallinn highway.  We passed windmills and forests until we got to the border checkpoint in the castle town of Narva.  Formerly the site of many battles and sieges from Russians, Danes, Germans, and Swedes, Narva has still not become entirely Estonian.  In fact, it's 90% Russian speaking and the multiple stops the bus made to pick up people visiting family in Russia was certainly testament to that.  I've even read that one-third of Narvans are Russian citizens classified as legal aliens by the Estonian government.  Since Estonia does not allow dual citizenship and since most Narvans are an ethnic and linguistic minority in Estonia, such a statistic is not surprising. 

Narva and adjacent Ivangorod, Russia sit across from each other only separated by the narrow Narva River.  From certain angles, it looks like nothing separates Estonia and Russia, and it's no wonder that both these cities were so easily invaded.  Physically and technically speaking (let's forget about modern day legal boundaries for a minute ... and even then ...) little effort would be required to stomp on over from either side.  You'd really just have to pretend that you were Bear Grylls and grin and bear the current of the river making sure the machete doesn't drop from your pit bull jaws.  More on Narva and Ivangorod in the proceeding post so stayed tuned.

Customs was fast and efficient, and the bus proceeded into Russia.  Even without going through customs, I would have known we were in Russia anyways by all the potholes in the road.  That made having to use the restroom on the bus a ... challenging experience.  In the lavatory, you apparently have to sit down on the dirty seat so fluids don't go flying around everywhere.  There's even a sign, aimed mostly at gentlemen, instructing one to do so.

No, Eurolines is not some femi-Nazi, man-hating enterprise.  They just don't want pee all over the place as the bus motions about.  Of course, one is also bound to move a bit too much on that toilet seat as the bus moves ...

Potholes and all, the bus managed to pull into Baltiysky Station a half an hour ahead of schedule.  In Petersburg early.  It's like Eurolines knew what I wanted.  I got off the bus and the decrepitude of my enthusiasm went with me.  The perks of Petersburg were doing nothing to resuscitate any warm, fuzzy feelings.  I mean ...

From buildings continually crumbling...

... to trash-talking graffiti (this says that a girl named Malvina has stupid shoes and smelly socks.  I think Malvina needs to kick some @$$)...

... to obstructions in walkways ...

... to beer swigging moms ...

... to dimwit drivers ...

... to landfill and sidewalks being indistinguishable ...

... to less than attentive animal control.

...I was really f^cking happy to be back.  And the day after I returned, some speed racer tried to "herd" me around the block (I wasn't really that scared.  I wasn't even walking faster) and actually got out of his douche-mobile that was something of this ilk ...

...so he could meet a foreigner.  It took smashing a half-empty beer bottle in my hand after multiple obscene hand gestures and savagely yelling terrible language in English and Russian for Dima Bilan's inbred cousin to step off.  I guess angry, aggressive, I-don't-give-a-f^ck-if-I-have-to-use-that-rusty-electrical-wire-over-there Westerners weren't beings he met every day.  I just hope he's actually taking English classes and can present this experience for show-and-tell.  But at least I had my Shokolodnitsa devushki who have memorized my order so I could sulk over coffee all the more efficiently.

Oh, Tallinn, with you I hardly had to try.  Petersburg, I just take what I can get from you.