yellow balloons

Mama and I went to Newbury St with one goal in mind: to get me a hat. The Goorin Brothers shop was filled with people listening to the Kentucky Derby crackling on the radio, drinking bourbon and wearing outfits alluding to some old-Kentucky time. The hat is brown and felt and with a very large wavy brim. My hair does not look silly sticking out from underneath - this was a very lovely birthday gift.

Sima's birthday was on Thursday, so they all came to me. We inflated nine yellow balloons (his favorite color) and we went to Baraka Cafe, which has good food and a chatty Tunisian lady. I told Sima that, since he has so many things, I'm not going to give him a physical gift. Instead, my gift to him is that he will come visit me for a day and sleep over. When Mama asked him what I had given him he said "She gave me love".

chronology?

7) Sara said "мне очень нравится как ты обнимаешься. очень крепко"

1) went to the MFA with Max. Saw Jamie Wyeth and didn't like how rubbery his subjects are and structureless his painting.

4) lunch with Tom.

2) drinks and food at Whiskey's with Max. He convinced me to leave my number for the waiter. We tried to go in a straight line and ended up back were we started -- that was before the drinks.

9) read a post Hannah wrote in France. I liked this one.

8) I sent out my resume, interviewed the same day, got a job offer the day after that and declined in the evening, stating a realization that hours of 10:45pm-8:45am wed-sat nights are not optimal for my functioning.

2.5) went blazer shopping at a thrift store with Yosef for his semi-formal. Very difficult task we have yet to succeed.

5) I finished reading Dovlatov's Иностранка (foreigner, or the official title in English A Foreign Woman). Like reading about a familiar zoo, and particularity good because I was just writing about racism in Russia and how it manifests once they emigrate.

3) Sanya is here from Moscow, she brought candy and I remembered that's one of the things I would get most excited about when Dedushka would visit.

6) Sara needed coffee. The girls sitting on the bench were trying to figure out where to go: map in hand, pinpointing a street to orient from. Four in a row, age 13 or so, out in the city.

10) attempted to post from my new and first proper smartphone. 

parallel

I hadn't seen Sara in over two years, and in Moscow at that, but it didn't feel like it. She is bright and warm and beautiful. She borrowed a book she loves and which I finished earlier this month (Salinger's Franny and Zooey) in addition to a biography of Brodski. We ate and walked and I told her about the parallel lives I imagine*, and she told me about her future plans. When she was leaving, she offered me her scarf as a gift but I said "no"; "why?"; "because you need it!" She left it on my bed anyway, folded neatly, brown bikes on cyan cloth.

* I don't know if this is an immigrant thing or just me, but I wonder what would have happened had I grown up in Moscow. It's important not to do this too much, otherwise one can go a bit mad. Interestingly, I don't really do it for Israel (though the chance of ending up there is just as real, if not more so). Maybe I would have been a bit more chill, and I know a couple of the people I would know better had I lived there (Ilya whom I met two years ago, and Manya - people used to tell us we look like sisters before she moved to Israel in middle school) but it doesn't seem like I would be fundamentally different. I also haven't been there in a really long time, so perhaps I simply don't have enough information to fantasize.
I also don't really imagine what it would be like if I had gone to Clark University or UMass Amherst (the other two colleges I had been considering for my bachelors), or if I hadn't met the specific part of the Russian-Jewish community I'm part of in 8th grade. It doesn't make sense to, because I can't imagine anything in it's place except misery. 

I think with Moscow it's due to a string of 'coincidences'.
I met a boy Danya from St. Petersburg about a month ago, and he introduced me to his friend, who knew my cousins because they go to the 57th school (it seems that about 50% of the Russian-speakers I know went there). When Andrej came to camp in 2008, I already had been him four years prior in Karelia, and of all the people there, I had made sure to get his address for correspondences (though never wrote to him). In Berlin, I was staying with Sasha and his apartment mates. Mama had a friend through live journal but never met her in person, and this woman knew Sasha had a room. When Dasha Sh. visited me for a day it turned out she knew Sasha's sister. In Moscow I was brought to the same alternative-space by two different people, and it was best put by Varya: this place is widely known in narrow circles. There are others. I may be wrong, there are circles that don't quite overlap. The people I know from MGU who studied mathematics don't know all these people, though Sima is the reason I ended up in Karelia.

And that's where it is: that moment. Some things I have no idea about - how would I have been different had I grown up in a city, specifically Moscow - more neurotic? aggressive? sexually focused? feminine? cruel? educated? What has been lost and what has been acquired by me leading the life I lead, and not the life I don't lead (as Sara noted, there is inevitably a touch of sadness in considering the alternative. like maybe those things are missing from me.)
But some things are fixed. I may not have known the same exact people, but I would have almost known them. Known someone they know or gone to the same space and held the same political and social views. In a world of over seven billion, there are not that many that I could know, even if I had ended up living 4,500 miles away.

The Mall

For most of my life I viewed buying clothes as an unpleasant but necessary part of existence. Society demands I wear clothes, and so does the weather (most of the time, around here anyway). Eventually, clothes shopping stopped being so horrible, clothes more interesting. I never really started liking malls, other places are nicer, but I will admit that they are an efficient way for the many to get clothes and kill time. Mama often has me tag along to help her choose outfits. Yesterday's trip was like this.

One of the restaurants at the mall Is called Wasabi, and has one of those futuristic Japanese conveyor belts with portions: inari sushi, sashimi, seaweed, wasabi peas. Different colored plates are different prices, ranging from 2-5$ a plate, all going round and round. It's very efficient - the waitresses can deal with more customers at a time and don't have to take an order, and it's easier to decide on what you want when it's passing by you - and easier to take more than you should if the temptation keeps flickering past. It reminds me of the Charlie Chaplin feeding machine, except making leisure more efficient instead of the workplace.

Across from the Wasabi a store had recently opened - Uniqlo, also from Japan (I'm sure its placement is not an accident.) It's had an aggressive ad campaign and the store was abuzz. It is larger than most spaces at the mall, lined with identically repeating plain articles of clothing. Thirty gray puffy vests on one side of a rack, thirty maroon, otherwise identical puffy vests on the other side. More on the walls. Square shelves all the way to the ceiling with socks, different patterns in each square cube. As new-time costumers, they asked us to fill out a short questioner about our experience. Usually I wouldn't have, but this time I did, write in comment: The set-up is alientating. Repetitive and robotic.

but maybe these leggings will last?

Brimfield Flea Market

Sunday we went to a flea market the size of a few blocks. broken wind-up wristwatches, giant heavy tables made out of found wood and factory parts, jewelry, door knobs, plates, dresses, a giant antique yellow sofa (the kind with the arms splayed out), bells, cameras, Buddhas, all things rust (like old-fashioned apple peelers), vases, glass figurines, posters, step stools, postcards (with and without writing, I got one sent in 1908), scales, glass bottles, suitcases and storage trunks, wooden cases with tons of tiny little drawers, cameo and other pins, and 'open' sign with an arrow (like those seen in movies about old Vegas or old NYC), lamps from many different eras, cigarette lighters with wicks, baskets, furniture keys, chairs, books, Life magazine and Playboy, spools of thread, type keys and other stamps, more tables, rugs, satchels, large coral, shoes, photo enlarger that just needed a light bulb, machine oil, school lockers, mirrors, and so many things that I didn't even know what they were. I  don't know if I saw things just once and they impressed me, or multiple times. If I saw them multiple times in different places, or just past the same place more than once. Like the city of Zirma, a blind black man shouting in the crowd, a lunatic teetering on a skyscraper's cornice, a girl walking with a puma on a leash.

We got Polish food from a man who moved here 25 years ago but still wears Polish crest necklace, and got lemonade somewhere else. I sent the postcard from 1908 to Hannah, the vendor told me all he knew about Marshall McLuhan, which was a lot; About how he predicted that it was information that was valuable, not computers, and that he coined the terms "global village" and "the medium is the message". We also talked about how they no longer are teaching cursive in schools, which I read about as well, and how because of that one of the guys who came by looking to buy (and sell) autographs was freaking out because what happens to autographs when penmanship dies. How writing by hand will be an upper class thing again. "Wait one second, I have to finish" he said "this is one of my favorite topics". Though, in spite all this, Sima came from school today and told me that they are going to start teaching them cursive in third grade, same as they did with me. The vendor was so caught up in his own speech that he gave me an extra dollar back in change.

Some boy tried to get my attention (which caught me off guard more than usual) and Mama said "I know! you can't meet boys at bars. They are too standard and basic for you. You need to meet boys at places like antique fairs, where they are strange and inadequate"

packing

I'm packing.
or
I ought to be packing.

Today and yesterday I collected items found on craigslist: a bed frame with a mattress and spring box (free), a small wooden table and chair (30$), a garment rack because I won't have a closet (5$).

I have packed

• all the kitchen things
• some of my cloths
• bathroom things

I have yet to pack

• the rest of my cloths (I sorted through some of my stuff my parents stuck in the basement. Most of it was useful, but I also found a toy I started making a few years ago, half stitched and half held with pins. It has been like that for years. headless.)
• shoes, belts, jewelry
• art supplies
• writing/reading (paper, pens, stamps, books. I tried meeting up with Leonid by MIT but our plans fell through twice. It occurred to me that we haven't had a real conversation face to face since two thanksgivings ago, but have kept up purely through letters. Freshman year he wrote with a typewriter, but now he uses a fountain pen.) 
• miscellaneous (sewing kit, flashlight, alarm clock ect.)

Tomorrow I will have moved to Redhook.

dyed dress

I started looking for housing at the start of the year, but bad luck seemed to want to be my friend. He followed me around, staying loyal as one person after another turned out to be unreliable. I finally shook him off Saturday - with just a week to move-in day. Hopefully he got the hint and won't be dropping by any time soon.
From what I've observed from afar (Bard is small, I've seen them before) - they are a very touchy-feely couple. They have a fondue pot and a waffle maker. Zoe wrote to me "There is also a small room off of the living room, which we are designating studio/creative space. You are free to utilize it for artsy things."Jono graduated last year with a chemistry degree and wants to become a nurse, but is currently working in one of the Bard offices.

I've been going to Walden Pond a lot, and finished reading Everything is Illuminated.
Yesterday, Yulka and I went to Watch City Brewery in Waltham. A year ago we went to the microbrewery and got food. The fare was good, but it demanded beer, so we decided we would go there again once we were legal. (check) 

I had a white dress (from my high school graduation. we all had to wear white, the boys all had identical white tuxedos).
Sasha said something about pastel for the wedding so...
blue fading into a teal tint at the bottom.

snow and mud

Русский внизу.

Yesterday was Monday but it hardly feels like it and the snow is melting and the ground is mud. On the 15^th I went to another TBL show, the content was heavier; words strumming the space filled with trembling drunken souls. The show ended and we cleared out of Hopson cottage and continued the night elsewhere. It gets cold at night.

Thursday night Vaclav and I threw snow at Mark’s window so he would let us in. Mark, who has a mustache, let me and Vaclav, who has half of a mustache, in, and later a girl who's already graduated. Mark speaks Russian though his native tongue is Hebrew, and both Vaclav and the girl are from the Czech Republic, so we spent the night not speaking English, briefly switching to German. There was a moment when Vaclav was saying something, eyes wild and gesturing, and I was almost frightened because I did not understand; other times it was as if Russian and Czech were just different dialects of the same language. As soon as the Czech people left, a boy from Slovenia came - he’s studying Russian though.

Friday Hannah and I went to a literary reading in Shafer house. There were three students reading their work, and five of us in the audience. The florescent light hung low from the high ceiling, boxed wine stood on the bookshelf, and we sat on the gray carpet floor, listening.

The next night Amanda Melissa and I drove to the theater in Kingston to watch Warm Bodies. For the Oscar’s Bianca convinced me to dress up and put make-up on for the viewing at the MPR – let’s just say that I’m easily bribed when food is involved, and she made banana cream pie.  

Today is a Tuesday.

More photos I took for TBL Season 2 Episode 2 linked here

Вчера был понедельник - тает снег и земля расползается в грязь. 15ого я пошла на TBL шоу. Содержание было тяжелее чем в прошлый раз. Слова играли, и комната заполнилась дрожанием пьяных духов. Когда закончилась, мы забрали вещи из Хопсон и продолжали ночь в другом месте. Ночью холодно.

 В четверг вечером, Вацлав и я бросали снег в окно Марка, чтобы он нам открыл дверь. Усатый Марк впустил меня и Вацлава, у которого один ус, а затем девушку, которая уже закончила Бард. Марк говорит по русски, хотя родной язык иврит. Вацлав и девочка из Чешской Республике, так что мы провели ночь без английского, и даже немого поговорили по немецки. Был момент когда Вацлав что-то говорил, и глаза у него горели, и жесты у него были энергичные, и мне даже становилось страшно, что я его не понимаю. Но еще было так, что казалось что  русские и чешские просто разные диалекты одного языка. Как только чешские люди ушли, пришел мальчик из Словении, - но он изучает русский.
В пятница я с Ханной пошли на литкружок в Шафер. Три студента зачитывали, пять в аудитории.Флуоресцентный свет низко висел с высокого потолка, коробка вина стояла на книжной полке, и мы сидели на сером полу и слушали.
На следующую ночь Аманда, Мелисса и я поехал в театр в Кингстоне смотреть Warm Bodies. Ночь Оскаров, Бианка убедила меня нарядиться и накрасила мне веки. Мы пошли на просмотр в MPR. Она испекла пирог, так что убедить меня было не трудно.
Сегодня вторник.

Новый Год в Москве

You can practically taste the translation in some parts. It's at the bottom again.

Oh! and before I forget: another thing that American's associate with Russia is "babushka". However, it does not, as many think, mean headscarf. It means grandmother. Though if you search "babushka" in wiki, it says "A Western term for a woman's headscarf tied below the chin in the Eastern European manner." so I guess if you use it with that definition in English it's acceptable.

31: В семь утра слышно как дворники чистят лед и притоптанный снег. Чуть раньше, подметают тот, который еще не прилип.

Настал вечер. Позвонила Симе с который я не виделась восемь лет; тогда мы провели месяц в одной палатка в Карелии. Она, добрая, пригласила встречать Новый Год вмести с ее однокурсниками (с мехмата). Мне Санька тоже предложил отметит Новый Год, но в анти-кафе с экономистами я не пошла. Решила, что математики мне более знакомый народ.

Шел снег, взрывался салют; эхо на весь город. Проходила мимо женщин в шикарных шубах, которые стояли и смотрели, как их мужья расчищают машины. Некоторые еще ругались, за то что дверь не достаточно быстро открывают. В метро на меня посматривал какой-та мальчик, но претворялся что этого не делал; метро как метро.

У Сими было хорошо; она героически приготовила очень много еды, и мы ее убедили взяться за гитару. Дружно, слегка фальшиво, напевали песне (ну, когда могла, подпевала, у меня конечно странный репертуар). Сыграли в игру со стихами; человек выбирает не слишком известный стих, и говорит из него две строчки. А каждый игрок должны придумать еще две правдоподобные строчки, и сдают свою версию тому кто загадал. После этого зачитывают все версии, включая оригинала (и версию которую сочинил тот кто загадал). Все голосуют, стараются угадать, какая версия оригинал. Мне даже один раз удалось обманут большинство (после орфографической поправки), что конечно для меня удивительно (и приятно), хотя то что я придумала достаточно тупое:

Что же вас сгубило,
Бросило сюда,
Что же вас сгубило,
Бросила судьба

Оригинал:
Что же вас сгубило,
Бросило сюда,
Где не так уж мило,
Где - сковорода?

1: Новый год мы встретили на кухне, с телевизором. Шампанское, а в скоре после этого кофе; романтично. Ближе к восьми мы пошли гулять, было безумно красиво; снег с машин еще никто не очистил, небо светлое от облаков. Проводили большинство народа в метро, и пошли в Битцевский Лесопарк, там два озера, и санитарии, красивый. Переходя дорогу, узнали что в пол девятого, на Новый Год , ходят пустые автобусы.

В 10 мы легли спать, потом в 16 проснулись, что с джетлагом мне не помогло. Убрались, и я поехала обратно на Ленинский Проспект. В метро, на меня тырился какой-то дядя, старался обратить на себя внимание; метро, как метро.

2: Днем болела, вечером решила что хватит и пошла на каток с Симой и ее друзьями. По очереди терпеливо меня учили кататься, не смотря на то что они меня не знают. Каток это хорошее место познакомиться с Русской попсой. 

This is from the second time we went, same people though.

31: Seven in the morning you can hear the yardmen (city workers) cleaning away the ice and compacted-from-being-stepped-on snow. A bit earlier, they sweep away that which has not yet stuck to the ground.
Evening came. I called Sima who I had not seen in eight years: then we had shared a tent for a month in Karelia. She, being kind, invited me to meet the New Year with her course mates (math section of MGU). My cousin San'ka had also invited me to mark the New Year, but I did not and up going to an anti-cafe with economists. I decided that mathematicians are a more familiar crowd.
It was snowing, fireworks were exploding; the entire city echoed. I passed women in luxurious fur coats, who stood and watched as their husbands cleared the snow from the car. Some of them also made a fuss about the car door not being opened quickly enough. In the metro, some boy was glancing at me and pretending that he wasn't; a metro, like any metro.  

It was really nice at Sima's; she had heroically cooked a ton of food, and we convinced her to play the guitar. Together, slightly off key, we sang (well, I sang when I could; my repertoire is rather strange). We play a game with poetry: a person takes a poem that is not too famous (preferably abab rhyme scheme, this part is easier in Russian) and give the players the first two lines. After that each player has to come up with his own continuation. Then all the versions (that of the players, that of the person who presented the first two lines, and the original four) are read out load. The player’s vote as to which one they think is the original. I miraculously managed to trick the majority (after my spelling was edited) and of course for me this is amazing (and pleasant) though what I came up with was rather obtuse.  My version is about being abandoned by fate, the original is about frying a fish.

We met the New Year in the kitchen, with the T.V. Champagne, and soon after coffee; romantic. Around eight we went for a walk; it was incredibly beautiful; no one had cleaned the snow off of the cars; the sky was light from the clouds. We walked most of the group to the metro, and then went to the Bitevskii Forestpark; there are two lakes, and a sanitarium, which is pretty. When we crossed the street, we found out that at 8:30, on New Year’s, run empty buses.

At 10am we went to bed, and then at 4pm we woke up, which didn’t help me with my jetlag. We cleaned up, and I went back to Leninskiy Prospekt (it's a big street where I was staying). In the metro, some man was staring at me, trying to get my attention; a metro, like any metro.

2: I was sick during the day, but then in the evening decided that enough is enough and joined Sima and her friends at the ice rink. They took turns teaching me how to skate, despite the fact that they don’t know me. The skating rink is a good place to acquaint oneself with Russian pop-music.

Teaching Fellow

But now I am back at Bard, full of anorexic boys and girls with bouncy walks.


I just got back from buying more watercolor paper and tights with Emma and Lauren.

Before the break I made pancakes with Kalena at 11pm and attended a teaching fellow's event. The one for Manor Annex and Proper is Walter Mead, who is apparently fairly well known and meets famous people and been published in big journals and has been kissed by Yasser Arafat. The talk was on being a public intellectual, and he was somewhat entertaining, but my ambitions hardly lie in the area of political writing. Also, he is less of a conversationalist and more of a lecturer. Still, there was apple cider (and okay cake.) Marina van Zuylen's event freshman year had been better. We had discussed boredom and the cakes provided were truly fantastic.


Sumdedah and I made it to the burrito stand last Friday the day before it ended its season, and Wednesday I went over to lahl's house (lila amanda hallie and lia) and wrote.

But other than that, it's work work work. The most tangible bit is that last Friday I read all of Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse in one day for history class. There has been a band, a theater company, a film, and many other things inspired by the book, which is partially unique in that it was grossly misinterpreted by people who loved it while the author was still alive.

movies; The Third Man, with my parents over break.

Höfe und Straße und Eis

I realized yesterday that my dress also tore when I jumped over the gate, but not significantly.  The name of the pub we went to at the end of the Deutschkurs Module I is Kindl Stuben. The name of the second hand store I went to is Kleidermarkt Garage, in Schöneberg. 

Part 2

A week ago I went for a walk and ended up going through a bunch of courtyards, including a network of eight courtyards called Hackesche Höfe, which are really cool but I also got slightly lost because I didn’t realize there were eight or even more than two until I was well into the depths of chic café’s and edgy shops. 

I came back and Katrin offered to show me Prenzlauer Berg, so of course we went. I had already walked around there before, but a) I didn’t really know how Berlin was broken up then and b) I didn’t see that much of it. She showed me the Maur Park Memorial and we walked along the street. We walked for a long time, past the ("a church the name of which I will write in later") which had resisted the Nazi’s really early on, and down the pretty streets but the sun was beating down hard. She headed back to The Convent and I went in the direction of the Deutsche Guggenheim Museum, which is free on Mondays. Trying to not wolf down my overpriced soup-to-go I knew that I wanted to go to the museum but didn’t know if I had the energy for it. When I walked in I looked at the found objects, the simple collages of photos of found objects (100 or so sea washed bottles from NYC and Mexico, transitioning from one color to another, slowly.) It was so soothing. All the people milling around and the heat didn’t bother me then. It was probably the only museum that was perfect for me at that moment.

 

After that I decided to get ice-cream. I was thirsty but I had wanted ice-cream for probably about a month, and I was about to leave. I had bought myself some when I went to Spreewald, but it was a really bad pre-made cone. So I got myself a fruit froyo cup (apples and plums and strawberries and...) cafe that consists of a standard American school-bus, with sand an umbrellas and chairs in front. I felt obligated to get it there because I had been walking past it every single day. Half way through I didn’t think I could finish it. But then I did. 

The Gate

After going to the Altes Museum I met up with people at Tierpark, first with Hannah, her new roommate Merium (Paris), Pierre (Merium's friend from Paris) and Lisa (Malta, German and English.) We climbed on the roof of the apartment and the view was beautiful, you could see the lights far off, you could see the tiny people moving straight below. I unfortunately drank the beer that Hannah's old roommate had left, it was warm, it was not good. We went out looking for something, with the addition of Laura and Bengi (Ankara, Law) and Rita (Athens.)

    Hannah and Pierre had looked up a bunch of clubs and settled on Club Soda, because it was possibly free. When we got there the line was long and the entrance was free for women until one am, and it was eight euro for men; that revolted me. The line was long because it was almost one. Eloosha had recommended to me Suicide Circus, an industrial-site-turned-club, in the Friedrichshain area where a lot of the nightlife is. I figured if it doesn't work out we can easily find somewhere else. We found the club right away but not the entrance. We circled around hearing the music, walking past the gratified walls and broken bottles, the pissing men and chain smoking youths until we finally realized that it was right where it should be; right by the stairs where we came in. By that point we had forgotten that we should split up before trying to enter, hush down our foreignness. The bouncer asked us if we were over twenty-one, only because we had been speaking English. I said yes I am over and gave him my drivers license, which clearly states that I'm not over 21 until 2013. He was okay with this, but no one else showed their i.d.'s so we didn't go.

    Honestly, I just forgot that I was under 21 and was too busy trying to  call Merium and Pierre to figure out where they had disappeared to.

    Not far from there someone groped my butt, and it wasn't someone I knew.
    It was two and we were still just walking around, unsure of where to go. Hannah said that she would go home at three am, she was also unhappy to see and hear men peeing at every corner and tree, and it was cold. Me being me, I felt bad that it hadn't worked out. We passed by a club with a huge line and where approached by some guys trying to convince us to help them get in, since they let in women with ease and groups of men not so much. Honestly I didn't really register this club culture until...well Ben had told me a couple weeks ago that this is how it works but it didn't sink. These guys were not German, maybe Italian.

    It was beautiful walking around at night, and Bengi agreed.

    We kept walking because Pierre knew some place and then it was three am and Hannah and Laura left and we went to a pub called Cake. It was crammed and smokey and we sat next to a large strange women who asked where we where from and why we where here, all the time writing endlessly in even cursive, drinking another glass. I say another because there where already a few glasses standing around here, some strong liquor like whiskey. Lisa convinced me to do shots with her and I was envious of the writing woman, "I wanted to sit here and draw," I thought as a plume of smoke circled out of of a young woman's' mouth and sat suspended, not dissipating because the air was already so dense, and then finally it diffused into the rest of the smog.

    Then Pierre suggested we hop over a fence to get into this club called Chalet (it would be cheaper that way.) He had done it the last time he had gone to Berlin, and he said he had been scared and made a fake stamp on his hand and then realized there was no way of getting caught. We were all game. He jumped over and I held back, because I knew I would be fine getting over a fence, and the other girls seemed a bit less certain. Lisa went over second, but her dress and bag caught and she was left hanging on the spikes, dress bunched up around her waist. The bag was quickly removed but she was suspended on her dress for longer than I expected her to be. Two huge lovely holes in her favorite dress to commemorate the event. Rita went next, Pierre and me telling how to do it and and me saying that yes she can and yes she can. Same with Bengi. And then I came over and jumped from the top but a bit too confidently and fell, twice, because I tried to get up but the momentum of the fall was working against me. A scab on my hand and on my shoulder to commemorate this event. Then I got and up with Lisa went to dance and track down the bathroom (the mens room was cleaner, and emptier, the doors to both bathrooms where wide open.)  An hour later the techno got redundant and we left. We meandered back and watched girls walk barefooted down the stairs, through the glass, the bottoms of their tights black from the dirt. Lisa and I recognized them from when we had gotten off at Washaur Strassa. Going up the escalator at Tierpark, the skirt of the girl in front of me had gone way up, so I could see that she was wearing a thong under her tights. For some reason I didn't think to point this out to her; it didn't look sexual, it just looked silly.  At six I was relived to find that Hannah had left the door to her room (and so access to my sleeping bag) open.

Eberswalder Straße

I just realized that the beginning of my last post was redundant. I guess I had the words in my head and did not feel like I had put them down (even my phrasing was the same)
also: my phone finally works (they gave me two simcards. one that is for the phone from the company I bought it and the other just a random simcard. I have no idea why)

Last night, after staying in all day and taking three naps (yes, three) I went to Haufbanhoff station with Andreas and Charlotte and Andreas's colegue from Latvia and we watched the France-Spain game.

There were a few places you could watch, and one of them had a fake beach set up but you had to pay 3 euro for a food ticket so we went to a different place.

It's a really pretty station, though the construction detracts from it in this photo. Spain won. 
And today I met up with some classmates, we went to a flea market at Eberswalder Straße (Hannah, Maria Rosie, Michel, Laura, Caroline and Ben, who was complaining that we had tricked him into shopping)
 


We got food, Hannah got a necklace-watch, and then Hannah and Maria left and the rest of us went to walk around. We kept bumping into people from the German-classes, I guess everyone felt like hitting the flea markets. There's not much else to do on Sunday; the stores are closed and the museums are filled with tourists. Of course we look like tourists too, cameras out.

 But how could we not? That building demanded to be photographed.

estradiol

I came to the library at 8 (now it's 20 min later), way later than I wanted to. 
because: exam, class, food, selected photos and Ari came over for tea, met with Larry Fink at 5 (I am officially going to be taking a tutorial next semester, wooo!) and then Adrienne was packing and then we said goodbye and then I realized I hadn't eaten in 5 hours, so I had to fix that.
So now I'm finally here studying for neuroscience. 
thankfully the exam isn't until 11:50, which makes me feel much better, somehow, because at least I'll get to have breakfast.

things to look forward to:
-dorm activity at 11pm, namely the consumption of breakfast food. (Kalena and I did end up making pancakes. Specifically from macadamia-nut banana pancake mix her grandmother sent her from Hawaii.)
-showering.

things not to look forward to:
-the bareness of the room now that Adrienne is gone. She said we will hang out next year. And that skype exists.
-feeling unprepared for the exam no matter what.

I haven't been procrastinating. I can't concentrate.
It's not humid or hot in here, unlike outside or in most other buildings. which is a good thing, the books aren't getting damp, but it's also cold, so I'm going back to my dorm to get a sweater.

45 minutes: to stand outside and watch people smoke, to go to my dorm and get a sweater (with Britt, she borrowed one, and rain-boots, and thick socks,) to try to explain some statistics to Justin, to sit down. 

I can't concentrate. I can't concentrate. I can't concentrate. I'm freaking out because there is so much more I need to go over, but I can't read it. 

I woke up a couple days with the word estradiol just hovering above me, definition just out of reach.