It's Been A While

But in my defense I've been babysitting for the second week in a row now, so I really have very little time to write anything. The minute I sit down at the computer it's all "Ooh are you going to play a game? Can I play a game?" or "Masha let's go buy me a dragon" or "Masha, how many Kilotrillabytes are in a Megotallibyte?".

... Shoot me in the head.


I hate disciplining too as a rule but lately I've had to pretty hard core because my mother doesn't at ALL, and well my Dad isn't around. So George has been running around wild and he doesn't listen to anyone, so I figured, well I guess I'll use my cool big sister influence to install some order into his little six year old life.


Which is how I found myself with one leg over the bear barrier yelling, "I SWEAR TO GOD GEORGE ASK ME FOR MONEY ONE MORE TIME!!! NO GO ON ASK ME!! DO IT!! ASK ME ONE MORE TIME AND I WILL JUMP IN HERE I SWEAR!!!!!!". Yeah. I'm good with kids. Other high lights of that Zoo trip: George running from kiosk to kiosk asking for me to buy him everything and ignoring the animals, my grandfather giving lengthy and factually incorrect lectures to random children about the animals in the cages (in one particularly memorable moment, his lecture about the eating habits of a puma was interrupted when a little kid pointed out that that was a wolf), and me constantly having to search for one of them since they had a habit of wandering off without telling me. I also delivered some of my most outrageous lies and threats at that zoo. When George threw a fit because I refused to buy him a Fanta because we were going home for dinner, I was at the end of my tether and told him that fine, fine, I'll buy him a Fanta, but we're not going to leave the Zoo EVER. "FINE! YOU can live in those tiny smelly Duck houses and eat their poop and I am going to play with the bears and the seals and the wolves and they are going to be my friends and they aren't going to be your friends and I'm going to train them to HATE you". This is about the time that he burst into tears and hit me and I picked him up and held him over the pond and threatened to throw him in with his Duck friends if he didn't start acting normal. Thankfully he thought it was scary but funny and stopped and was ok. Some of the mothers looked really horrified though. Pshht. Amateurs.


Still though, running after a Six year Old all day is exhausting. Yesterday he threw his coat at me as we were leaving a guests apartment and I snapped and picked up the coat and raced after him to throw it at him, and I slipped on a fucking totally useless rag left on the floor and flew up in the air, totally showed a random man my panties by accident, and landed on my hip with a shriek that had everyone we were visiting run out into the hall way in horror. My brother burst into laughter. Little fucking demon. I mean I couldn't stop laughing too but I have one more bruise on my hip and my elbow is bruised and I WILL GET HIM FOR THIS.

Amusement at the Park

I have a mild obsession with Amusement Parks. I love them. It doesn't even matter if I can't go on the rides, just being there, hearing the screams, the laughter, and even those fucking annoying kids who wont stop sobbing about something... I love it. Ok well maybe not the kids because honestly it's like shut up. Shut up. You are cute, but you look like a little demon monster. Thus taking away your cuteness.... which is all you got working for you. Your chances of being left in the Amusement Park while your parents go treat themselves to frivolous material things has just greatly increased.

I really want to take my little brother here. Now, HE wouldn't be one of those kids. My little brother is pretty bad ass. I mean he gets scared of the rides, but he goes on them anyways, which is more than I can say for a lot of my guy friends. I remember this one time, Tia, Jack, Richie, Aaron and I went to Six Flags for the day, and sure they rode the Superman ride a billion times with no fear but when it came to that scary Elevator of Doom ride, nuh uh no go. You know the one, where you sit with your legs hanging out and they raise you really high and drop you?! And you get that sensation in your belly, the same one you get when you're nervous or flirting with someone you really really like. It's a great ride. None of the guys would go with us. I think I finally convinced Aaron to go after using the "If you REALLY cared for me, you'd go!". It was low of me, I admit. I'm SORRY!! I just knew he would enjoy it... and he DID. Even though he refused to go on it again, I know deep in his heart he totally enjoyed it. That was a really great day actually. It was a really weird combination of sunny with short patches of rain, which basically equaled a very low attendance. Yet all the rides were open and we got that Speed Pass so we never had to wait.


I remember this one time when I was a kid and I went with my family to the Six Flags in New Jersey or somewhere over there, and I was too short to go on the big roller coaster but my Dad lifted me by the pants so it seemed like I was taller than that ruler. The attendant didn't even notice that my feet were just brushing the ground. I really really wish he had. I almost fell out of that fucking thing. I mean I love roller coasters but I remember that terrifying ride to this day. I mean I got nervous when we just touched off and started climbing up because I slid down like a foot into the seat the moment it slanted. My slight discomfort gave away to absolute terror when we went over the crest and dropped down, because I realized that I could EASILY slide out of the big plastic thing that was supposed to be holding me in. How did I realize this? Well when I was about three quarters out and had only one arm through the arm hole holding on to the handle. Yeah that sort of gave it away. I don't know what was worse, having to hold on super tight when we went upside down for fear of falling out, or the pain of my head ricocheting between the plastic U that was supposed to hold me down. Every tight turn, BANG! It was a symphony of pain.

Taught me the importance of those rulers though. Apparently they aren't put there by mean people who want to ruin your fun. I wish I could have found that out in a different way though. Possibly by hearing a cautionary tale of some sort. I wandered around this park for a while. I'd name it but it has like a billion names. It might be Park Pobedy. Or it might be Gorky Park. I think Park Pobedy is the name of the Metro station next to it, but fuck, who cares. It was great. I remember coming here with Arisha, and her refusing to go on any of the scary rides because it would mess up her hair/outfit/general attitude. I also remember coming here with Dima and being bought ice cream cones and wandering around. I like the music they play by the fountain. It seems almost somehow patriotic to me.

Total Video overload right now, I know. It's just well, sometimes I can't get the pics to come out like it really is. I think the carousel is absolutely gorgeous, the horses charming, and just over all the entire park was ridiculously nice. The photos look washed out a bit though, because it was so sunny, and anyways they can't capture the music, the atmosphere or the smells. Not that the video can capture the smells... I'm just going to stop. Right. Now.

When Sauntering -> Beware of Trucks

That's almost how I got hit by one. I was feeling pretty good, sun shining on me, hater blockers on... I was perhaps sashaying a bit. Purely as a result of a good mood and some upbeat tunes. I passed a couple of looooooovers on a bench, and made eye contact with the guy. Really it was by accident, and I did the polite smile and look away bit, but then as I passed my ipod was playing a quiet tune and so I quite clearly heard the girl go "Can you stop STARING at that girl!? Smiling like an idiot, why don't you just go introduce yourself then, huh!". I actually turned around cuz I wanted to look at the girl too... then I realized it was me. The other realization that came with that one was that I had better keep walking or that girl was going to throw her ice cream cone at me. Oh how the sauntering began. I swished my hips one way, I turned up Kanye West, I swished my hips the other way, I ran my hand through my hair, tilting my head slightly back and then gazed off into the distance to left, as not to seem too full of myself.I'm not vain, I'm deep in thought. It is not my fault my hips happen to not be lying and my lips are in a sexy pout. So engrossed was I, obviously thinking about such complicated issues such as World Peace and um, missiles, in, um, Iran and uhhhhh philosophy... that I failed to notice a truck heading right towards me in the park.


I was thinking about photographic truth in our highly technological generation and whether it still existed, or was just a theory at this point. Honestly. Very engrossing topic... that I was thinking about. I definitely was not thinking about how great my breasts looked in my new bra. Nope. Nope. Photographic truth. SO here I was. Deep in important thoughts, when suddenly my peripheral vision kicks in and I see something yellow in the corner of my right eye. Oh. I shift my gaze. Oh my oh shit oh oh! I literally had to jump back because it was that close to me. Then I gazed up mouth open in shock at the drivers who at this point are waving at me. So are other pedestrians. I snap out of my semi-coma and scurry to the right only to find my way blocked by parked cars. At this point I'm completely confused and turn around twice in tight circles which make the truck drivers throw their hands back and look at me like I'm an idiot. Don't get me wrong I was being a total idiot.. but heyyyy. Don't look at me like that. Finally I get out of their way, they drive away and I'm left with silence and judgemental gazes from other pedestrains. Thats fine. I don't care!! I'm just going to turn up my ipod, and lower my head and speedwalk the hell out of here now. And avoid this tree. I avoided it. I didn't walk into it. I was just walking really fast so I had to turn really fast so that what i turned that fast. Stop looking at me old lady!! Don't shake your head!!!!!!!!!!

They are all so mean. Whatever. I have shiny bouncy hair. Ooooh a Ferris Wheel!


I walked around everywhere today. Literally five hours of straight walking, and then I met up with my mother at the mall. The minute we meet up she goes "Oh, I am SO exhausted, I've walked everywhere today!". Oh yeah? Where have you been? "Well, here. But I've been to all the stores". Aaaare you fucking kidding me? I just walked several miles, over practically all of lower Moscow, and you complain about being tired after walking around in circles for two hours? You also knew that I have covered half of Moscow since you insisted on calling me every hour to check if I was at the mall yet, and every time I told you my location you went "Ooooh you are walking so much!".


Her: Masha you always have to beat my story, no one can ever have a better/worse/crazy day than you. No one can ever be as tired/in pain/exhausted as you!

No. No that's YOU. I'm pretty sure you just described yourself. Oh oh hey, remember how earlier today you came home and told us you were probably going to die because the doctor said you had scoliosis? Then when I informed you that actually I have mild scoliosis too, and it basically just had to do with your back not being straight you glared at me for five minutes and then said I was wrong?


True story. Then when I kept on insisting I was right, she got all these worry lines and told me that I must have a mild case of it while she has the deadly case and will be walking with a cane in three months (her prediction). Yeah. Yeah I mean I have D size breasts but you are the one that's going to be walking with a cane. No no that totally makes sense. Then she informed me that she has worse posture than me. Oh yeah? Then why are you constantly poking me with your super sharp nails and telling me to straighten up. Shouldn't I be doing that to YOU? Then the ignoring began. It always begins when she can't argue anymore.

See!! Booooobs!

I prefer the ignoring to the alternative, which is her reminding me of everything I've ever done wrong in all categories of my life starting from when I was six. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, how exactly does the fact that I bit my doctor at age 13 pertain to this discussion? Answer the question. Answer... answer the question. Answer it. Answer it. Yes, I DO remember forgetting my dress at the beach last week. How does THAT pertain to the discussion?! A few more of these and the ignoring begins. Or I stomp away in tears because god dammit I TOLD you I never even fucking touched your Friends tape never mind broke it. FINE. Whatever. DON'T believe me. Motherfucking six years I've been telling you I didn't break it. SIX years... ok I need to calm down. Breathe in. Breathe out.


Anyways. So we're at the mall and she's trying to find this store that has cheap bras... and she can't find it. My mother has been at this mall for over 3 hours and she can't find the store. I thought you walked everywhere and knew where all the stores were?!

"Now is NOT the time for your sarcasm!"

That wasn't really sarcasm... well. I mean it's a fair question... whatever. Fine I'll drop it. I always drop it. Finally after like 15 minutes of her scurrying in one direction, abruptly stopping and then immediately sprinting in the opposite direction, she makes her way to a security guard and asks for directions. I'm standing maybe a foot or two away but since he's only really talking to her, I only listen with half an ear. He points in one direction, my mother, nodding extensively, re-enacts his action. Every action. After every sentence. All the while nodding repeatedly and saying "Uh huh. Mhmm. Uhuh". The poor guy was so intimidated by the intensivity of my mothers attention that he started stuttering a bit and throwing me desperate glances. Finally he finished, my mother and I walked away and about 3 seconds after leaving him, my mother goes "Oh so what did he say?".

What? Wait, no are you serious? You.. you seemed to be listening...

"Oh so you didn't! Oh so once again the responsibility falls on me! Great great. You need to grow up SOME day Masha, I hope you know!".


At this point I literally have no words so I turn around and go back to ask the guy again. Ridiculous. I'm not even going to get into the story of how she thought that I was an A cup. An A cup. I am quite obviously NOT an A cup and probably haven't been an A cup since 6th grade. Though according to my mother, she remembers how last year I fit into an A cup. I don't even think we were in the same country last year... do you mean in your dreams? Are you hallucinating? Am I hallucinating? Is it possible this entire hour with you has just been one huge intense acid flashback? Honestly... I hope so. I really really hope so.

This is ittt

I think this weekend was the closest I've ever come in recent years to recapturing the magic that was my childhood at the Dacha. I think it was when we were walking to the store in the pouring rain, tipsy off of beer and happiness and Dima ran and jumped into a muddy puddle spraying us with mud that I was like "Yeah. This is it".

I slipped and fell off the roof. I went skinny dipping. Boys fought over who would help me put my boots on. I came home at 9 in the morning. It was amazing. I'm bruised, still partially hung over and am still being scolded by my mother. I'm so happy.

Productivity -> Hampered by Hotness

I'm talking about the heat and my own personal hott-ness. Vain? Yes, terribly. But come on, I look so good! I lost some more weight I think, and I got tan, and my stomach looks tight! Ch-ch-check it out! How did I accomplish this? Well. I'm sick of Russian food. I walk around a lot, and I have intense water fights with the neighborhood kids and apparently there's a shit ton of cardio in surprise sneak attacks.

Of course now it takes me double the amount of time to get dressed. Even less of my own clothing fits me and yet, STILL my mothers clothing looks like it was meant for preschoolers on my body. Oh she's so cute, oh she's so petite everyone says... well yeah but have you ever thought about how SELFISH is it for her to not at all resemble me in body shape, so that I can't wear ANY of her clothes without looking like I grew 4 feet overnight? Yeah. Think about that. Selfish selfish selfish. So yeah that and the fear of kidnapping/accidental marriage/rape makes getting dressed a production of epic proportions. That and it's like 90 degrees out. So I'm wearing shorts and a tshirt, almost ready to leave and my grandpa goes "Those are short shorts huh". Yes well... I mean... isn't that the point of shorts? Wait are you saying I look slutty? Um, well, slutty means... um, like a girl is really really popular with boys... you know, right? Never mind. Never mind. I don't think they had sluts in the Middle Ages. Oh wait, Mary Magdalene? No? Ok lets move on. I'll go change.

So basically I wear the same things over and over again. I did laundry today. That was interesting. I actually had to read the manual for that thing to figure it out. I'm proud to say I conquered the beast. Though this stumped me for some time:




I mean, I just couldn't figure it out. For a minutes I thought maybe I stuff the clothes in around the drum, and somehow that washes it... yeah I know. Thankfully my logic skills kicked in (they do exist, they are just rarely used), and I read the manual and figured it out. Though honestly, how many knobs and options are really needed here folks? I'm not washing a fucking tissue paper gown, I honestly just want my clothes to not smell of sweat. I don't think I own any delicates. Do you mean panties? Oh. Well yeah I own some of those, but honestly, I don't need so many options. Like temperature... why the fuck would I care what temperature my clothes are being washed at? I mean I get hot/warm/cold, but when you give me them in Celsius I'm stumped. Or when you give me the option of picking at what hertz my clothes get washed at. Slow down there buddy... is this washing machine built for nuclear physicists? What the fuck is a hertz?

Also... is this sound normal?




I hope so. I mean my clothes are clean... I think. Smelling nice counts as clean, correct? I also made Blini, and was patting myself on the back for being so productive when my grandfather came in and said "Oh Blini!? I know the PERFECT thing that goes with Blini". Guess what it was. I'll give you a hint. It was *NOT* the perfect thing that goes with Blini. Guess what this is:


If you guessed Mystery Fish in Jelly... that is correct. It is in fact, very smelly mystery fish in a Jello like substance. Only the deep love I have for my Grandpa compelled me to try a bit of this... the taste of which it seems like will never leave my mouth. It wasn't terrible... but it was not good. I think my Grandfathers presentation of it was off. First of all, don't open it and then SUCK THE JELLY. You just sucked fish jelly Grandpa. Yes. Yes you did I just saw you. That was disgusting. No, America has not made me SOFT, you just SUCKED unidentified FISH JELLY. It is NOTHING like Jello. How do I know? I just know!!! Did you seriously just compare it to jello? Grandpa, when was the last time you had Jello, and where did you get it because this is nothing like Jello!!!! Well, for one, it has fish bits floating in it. Jello does not ever ever have fish bits floating in it. Do I really need to move on to number two?! No I will not try it. No. No. No. No. Stop it. Stop it I'm not going to try it. Stop. Stop. Stop it. No. No. No. Wait wait wait... maybe... NO. Jesus. I see where my mother gets her fucking persistence.

Addicted

That Bridge Again

Everyone who visits me in Karmanovo has to climb the bridge. It's tradition. Of course since I've climbed this bridge so many times now I get sort of bored. This time was a little more interesting because a train came right before we got to it, so we had to run for it. Well I ran for it. Mike was a pussy and just got off the tracks into the field. I ran for the bridge and made it just in time. I'm pretty bad ass. Then we climbed on top and gang signs were thrown. Yeah. I know. Shut up. I get bored.

In retrospect Mike never even lived in Western Mass so I don't know why I kept trying to make him make the gang signs for it. Though come on, he lived in Brookline for mad long, if he was going to claim a "hood" that should be it. What the hell does VA stand for anyways? Is that even a real place. I bet it stands for like Vagina Army or something equally stupid.