Emotionally, I'm pretty bi-polar. Yesterday I was ecstatic about going to Russia, due to receiving some rather awesome news about where I will be staying. Today however, I am hovering somewhere between the jittery nervousness and the scared shitless mark, to the extent that I've almost burst into tears several times, and am fairly certain I've developed lightspeed-onset hypertension. It is quite difficult to deal with, but google reliably informs me that cottage cheese is excellent for dealing with anxiety, so I have upped my daily intake to 2 tubs. This decision was purely health based, and not at all related to my ever strengthening addiction to the stuff, of course.
Oy. I need to switch my brain off.
The happier news is that it turns out I'm living with my friend who is already out there, so the extreme stress of getting lost (I have zero sense of direction, suspected dyspraxia or something I'm told, only I couldn't be arsed with paying £250 to get it officially diagnosed-I'll still get lost, lose my balance and say 'lawn the mow' instead of 'mow the lawn', just I'll have some kind of certificate to wave around to justify it) and general newby-ness should be lessened. I'm told it is 20 minutes to uni (in a straight line, hurrah!), next to a book shop, concert hall and chinese (I'm not sure I'm ready to tackle Russian restaurants just yet, had a bit of an embarrassing experience in the last one) and there is a cat. I shall stock up on allergy tablets. Love animals (more than people, often) and I did say I'd be ok with pets, but their fur hates me. The hoz is lovely and not insane, which is a massive bonus. Being with someone I'm friends with already (and she is very lovely) should make things less stressful health wise too, since she is used to my general state of wreckage and familiar with the lols of the Russian hospital system. Not a great deal of fun for her though, I suspect.
So this I am pleased about. I have been rasked to take over some cochlear implant batteries from a friend of the hoz, for their relative's friend...three times removed....or something. Bit ridiculous that you can get the hearing aids and implants in Russia, but not the replacement batteries. I never knew just how difficult it is to buy these batteries, but I'll get them. My flight is now Sunday at 9.15 am.
I am flying from the busiest airport in Europe, to Moscow, on the 10 year anniversary of 9/11.
Didn't ever suspect that would be the case 10 years ago, when my Dad walked in to find me sitting on the breakfast bar watching cbbc, looked at me, and asked 'you don't know, do you?'
I had dumplings for dinner that day, for the first time. Didn't like them. Strange memories.
I have some very clear memories of Russia last year, most being based in a neurological ward. One in a car, driving from the train station to my flat, with abba playing on the radio. That struck me as a little weird.
My visa invitation has yet to arrive. Tomorrow is Wednesday (ok, today. I'm nocturnal). We were told it would arrive Tuesday or Wednesday, so I'll have to be up in the morning and hope.
Then the fun of the visa agency.
I'm a little excited to see the security guard again.
It's a bit stupid really, I was fine until I saw on facebook that my friend had said she was speaking Russian all the time at uni. I conveniently completely ignored the earlier part in which she declared 'I can't speak Russian!' and focussed my entire emotional energy (well now doesn't that sound pretentious? It must remain.) and self confidence on that second bit. We all know that Facebook is basically the Bible of teh interwebz and as such the only possible answer is that my friend has, in 2 days, become completely fluent in spoken Russian and has probably already landed a job in the vodka and potato industry whilst fitting in trips to the bank to finalise the mortgage on her apartment and dacha.
Perhaps she will be so kind as to give me a cleaning job where I can practise my case endings on her many bilingual children who will be speaking better Russian than me by age 2.
Perhaps she will be so kind as to give me a cleaning job where I can practise my case endings on her many bilingual children who will be speaking better Russian than me by age 2.
The happier news is that it turns out I'm living with my friend who is already out there, so the extreme stress of getting lost (I have zero sense of direction, suspected dyspraxia or something I'm told, only I couldn't be arsed with paying £250 to get it officially diagnosed-I'll still get lost, lose my balance and say 'lawn the mow' instead of 'mow the lawn', just I'll have some kind of certificate to wave around to justify it) and general newby-ness should be lessened. I'm told it is 20 minutes to uni (in a straight line, hurrah!), next to a book shop, concert hall and chinese (I'm not sure I'm ready to tackle Russian restaurants just yet, had a bit of an embarrassing experience in the last one) and there is a cat. I shall stock up on allergy tablets. Love animals (more than people, often) and I did say I'd be ok with pets, but their fur hates me. The hoz is lovely and not insane, which is a massive bonus. Being with someone I'm friends with already (and she is very lovely) should make things less stressful health wise too, since she is used to my general state of wreckage and familiar with the lols of the Russian hospital system. Not a great deal of fun for her though, I suspect.
So this I am pleased about. I have been rasked to take over some cochlear implant batteries from a friend of the hoz, for their relative's friend...three times removed....or something. Bit ridiculous that you can get the hearing aids and implants in Russia, but not the replacement batteries. I never knew just how difficult it is to buy these batteries, but I'll get them. My flight is now Sunday at 9.15 am.
I am flying from the busiest airport in Europe, to Moscow, on the 10 year anniversary of 9/11.
Didn't ever suspect that would be the case 10 years ago, when my Dad walked in to find me sitting on the breakfast bar watching cbbc, looked at me, and asked 'you don't know, do you?'
I had dumplings for dinner that day, for the first time. Didn't like them. Strange memories.
I have some very clear memories of Russia last year, most being based in a neurological ward. One in a car, driving from the train station to my flat, with abba playing on the radio. That struck me as a little weird.
My visa invitation has yet to arrive. Tomorrow is Wednesday (ok, today. I'm nocturnal). We were told it would arrive Tuesday or Wednesday, so I'll have to be up in the morning and hope.
Then the fun of the visa agency.
I'm a little excited to see the security guard again.
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