For the most part, Russia is about 25 years behind America. Which is probably one of the many reasons I love Russia so much. It's going back to the '80's for me. Back when I was a new adult and when I felt most comfortable.

What do I mean by 25 years behind? I mean haircuts and fashion, for sure. That's the most obvious. I mean a certain crispness in the air. There is jadedness here, in spades, but against "old ways". There is a bright naivete about many things. There's an innocence here I have never seen in America. It's, honestly, refreshing.

Normal appliances in America are not in Russia. Clothes dryers, dishwashers, garbage disposals (even more esoteric: high volume mixers, decent hair trimmers, WaterPiks, dehydrators, all the stuff I had in San Francisco). There are no good pots and pans in Russia. Only disposable things.

But, people here are not caught up in the rat race. As Tima, my aggravating/adorable student, said today, "I have simple needs." Russians are generally (I said GENERALLY--not counting my gf nor her sister) quite happy with what they have.

I'm not going to go into politics because, as we all know, in every country the prime places are purchased. Russia is not different from America in this aspect. It's not even worth mentioning.

I do love the complete lack of religion, everywhere. You can find religion, if you want, in the gorgeous, extravagant churches (paid for by people who could not afford it, no doubt). But in every day life, religion is never mentioned. That is such a humongous plus for me. That's the way it should be. If you want religion? Good for you. Go to church. If you don't, don't go to church. The church is not actively trying to be political, like it is in America.

TV shows in Russia tend to be very violent or very insipid (this, I think, is learned from America). Reality shows are emerging but I don't know if they're popular. My students watch little or no TV so I have no info on this. Violence is EVERYWHERE on Russian TV. I'm quite sick of seeing guns and hostages on the television. (I never pay attention to the TV--unless it's children's shows as they help me learn Russian--but I like to have it on as my company during the day). When I do pay attention to TV shows (serials), I'm shocked at the horrible portrayal of Russian women. The shows make them seem unhinged and hystrionic (I hate that term, btw) when Russian women I have met are all very level-headed and strong.

This morning, during my ride to my lesson, I was thrilled--as I am always when I'm tooled around Saint Petersburg--at just how gorgeous this city is. This is the most beautiful city in the world. At 10am it was still pitch black so all the lights adorning every street lamp and every apartment building were glowing bright. Snowflakes, trees, icicles made of light strands are everywhere. No one does the season like Saint Petersburg. Even without snow.

I'm diametrically opposed, time-wise, to almost everyone I know in the U.S. My afternoon (when I'm generally home from morning lessons and before evening lessons) you all are asleep.

I have a new (male) student (young) who's very sexist. I bite my tongue a lot with him. Otherwise, he's quite funny and very sweet to me (he gave me three New Year's gifts) but some of the stuff that comes out of his mouth makes me want to sock him in the throat. It's not my job to teach him empathy, though. It's only my job to teach him English.

The concept of retail is very new to Russians. What would be a seamless transaction in America is a bumpy ride here. Case in point: today I bought a gift for Nikol. I knew it would not be as it is in San Francisco--you choose it, you pick it up, you take it to the cashier, you pay and you leave. (There are many other cases I could provide but I'll stick with the freshest, today, as it's the epitome, really.)

I chose it, I picked it up (very unusual in Russia--most things are behind glass/plastic and you point and they fetch), I took it to the cashier but the cashier was closed. She looked at me like I was crazy. I understand now that they were changing shifts but at the moment I went to pay, there were no cash registers open. Handy for paying.

She screamed for Ivan and he came up and very slowly opened his register. I paid. But then the alarm went off when I tried to leave the store. Of course because Ivan didn't demagnetize the security strips. I waited for "охрана" (security). She spent at least five minutes trying to figure it out. I showed her where the strip was (I could see it). I was laughing about it but the security guard seemed none too pleased.

I've been in retail management for most of my adult life in America and everyone involved today would've been talked to about their behavior if I were boss BUT this is not America and they handled it wonderfully by Russian standards. I felt like kind of a small shit stain for even trying to purchase something but that's because you have to be pushy and bad ass to be Russian. I am not Russian.

The worst part of today, though, was after my lesson. For some reason, journeying down into the Metro (at the really deep stations) makes me dizzy. I often feel I'm going to throw up when I step off the escalator down. Nearly every time, I think, "Okay, well, if I pass out, I know these people will take care of me." And it's true. Russians are very caring people. Not EVERY one, but most.

It takes me a good while to acclimate to the deep underground so I linger a bit, sometimes. Getting over my "I'm going to barf" feeling. I did this today at Sadovaya (I was on my way to collect my pay from the school). Sadovaya is especially hard for me because it takes at least eight to ten minutes to even exit. A lot of walking is involved. (Granted, it's the New Year season and the wait for the escalators is longer than usual.)

So I was feeling dizzy and a babushka with crazy eyes started barking at me and I was just not listening at first. Maybe she's not barking at ME. No, she is. I told her, in Russian, "Excuse me, please, I speak very little Russian. Maybe you can speak more slowly?" She told me she doesn't understand. "I'm American and my Russian is bad," I say. She turns away. Okay, then. She turns at me again, "You're American?" "Da."

Okay, we went off on our separate ways. Except not even one minute later a lovely man with big eyebrows and wearing a fur cap tells me about my coat. My coat? What? I'm still considering the run-in with the disgruntled babushka so I, unfortunately, don't understand the kindness of this man. Plus, I'm dizzy.

Finally, I get it and touch the back of my jacket. It's globbed with spit. That babushka spit on me! Like a humongous loogey. Gross! And I never got to thank that man for telling me. He went in the opposite direction. And why did she spit on me? For being American? I stopped and tried to help her. Oy, I'd helped at least three other people get to the correct lines on the Metro beforehand (I have a subway-friendly face, plus I can say line 3, line 4, line 2) so I don't get it.

Anyway, some babushki are freaking crazy! And some are wonderful. On my way back into the Metro, another babushka asked me directions. I was feeling frightened (a bit) but I did the same routine with her and she thanked me very much and wished me a happy new year. For me, that totally retracted the spit.

I have to teach early Monday morning so I need to "get in the groove" here in Russia but it's hard. So, I will occupy myself by posting random things:

1. In Atlanta I was "sir"ed twice. I assure you, I am less butch now than ever before. Plus, I have 13 earrings. Most men do not have 13 earrings. I have not been "sir"ed since I was 19. Can we stop with the gender-based greetings? How about "Hello!" or "Good morning!" or "Good Evening!" or anything else than "Nice to see you, sir! Or, I mean, ma'am?" Why the genderizing? Irritating.

2. People in Atlanta (despite #1) are crazy nice. Atlanta is one of the nicest places to be in America. If you're not gay. In Atlanta (and Arizona), though we booked a king bed they saw us and tried to double bed us. I had to make sure we had ONE king-sized bed. "Are you sure?" "I really am sure." Frickin' annoying. She is my lesbian lover, if you must know. We're not idiots about booking rooms. This is what we get around the world so America is no more guilty than Sweden. Or Spain. Or Slovakia.

3. You have to go through security to get OUT of the Atlanta airport, international side. Really? Yes. So bizarre. To just get out to the street, in Atlanta, you have to stand in a long ass line to be x-rayed and have your bags x-rayed. The mind boggles. How much money do they have? It's not that way in JFK nor LAX, the two most frequented international airports.

4. Delta Airlines was fantastic to us for our nine flights. We had no problems. They were kind (even in JFK!) and the flights were marvelous. I had an issue with Atlanta's passport control but it was taken care of, very professionally. (My issue was: generally, I can take Nikol in with me on the U.S. Residents side because I am an American citizen, and she's not. The line for citizens is about 1/4 what the line for non-citizens is. The passport control guy was giving me a hard time about "Is she related or married to you?" So I summoned a passing supervisor and he let us through. But then they raced me through to the baggage claim. Without Nikol. That was annoying.)

5. It's very hard to be a lesbian couple from different countries. After endless flights and scuffles about hotel room accommodations, it's exhausting to have to get through governmental controls. As Nikol told me, I can't live without you (her). It's what we must do but why can I not count her as my family? She's the only family I have.

I am so in love with Nikol. She acted like a beast after Las Vegas, but I forgive her because there is something about her that makes me crazy with desire. She was bitching at me for tipping $3 at a Waffle House. *I* am spending too much money, $3, and she can't afford it when *I* never want to leave Saint Petersburg. I want to stay home and teach my classes. *I* do not want to travel. I'd much prefer to stay here and see my students through.

She has eyebrow movements that enthrall me. She has a laugh that kills me. I'm deeply in love with her. I think I satisfy her in every way. Every time she asks me to do something for her sister it always ends in tears. I am unable to satisfy her sister. Our tickets to "O" (which I've been to FOUR times before and am unsure why people will not listen to me that it's not worth going to) were not up to par. Not because they were not great seats but because the show was not as GREAT as they wanted. Hey, listen to me in the first place. DON'T SPEND $200 on "O".

Nikol didn't speak to me the whole way to Costa Rica because of it. I will NEVER buy tickets for Elya again. NEVER.

EDIT: To be fair, Elya has never told me what I've done is not enough. It's only Nikol who's told me this. I have no idea if Elya was happy or not, personally. But if we're going to have a fight EVERY single time after I do something for Elya? No, I'm done. I will no longer be a Yankee secretary.

Costa Rica is pretty amazing as far as animals go. Y'know what? Travel writing is not my forte. Costa Rica looks a lot like Mexico, and I've been to Mexico many, many times. It's not terribly different. There are more animals and the currency is colones, otherwise it's exactly like Mexico. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. I love Mexico.

For one, the people in Latin countries are much nicer than, say, Nordic or Teutonic countries. There's a general relaxedness in Latin countries that Northern and Eastern European countries need to adopt. But there is that unpleasant Catholicism that still impedes their society. They could quickly be the coolest countries in the world if they threw off their Queen Isabella shackles. I can't imagine why they still hold on to their invaders' religion. (I often wonder about that with African-Americans. They're so gung ho about christianity when that's what their enslavers believed. Stockholm syndrome prevails.)

Spain allows gays to marry, so there is hope.

( My favorite part. )

I have slept very little since she's been gone. I'm sure I've mentioned before that I'm a hardcore insomniac. I can never shut off my brain. It's been like this since I was a kid. I think and think and think and think.

Most times it's not unpleasant and I almost feel rested when I "wake up", except my eyeballs burn. The rest of me generally feels fine. I think I don't completely close my eyes when I'm "thinking" through the night hence the "eyeballs burning".

If I do fall asleep, I wake up at the slightest noise and then I have to begin the long process into sleep again. It becomes harder as it becomes later. I get more anxious the less time I have to sleep.

It's so much easier to sleep next to Nikol. I feel safe with her. Though the cats screaming at the door will wake me up, and not Nikol. I wish I could sleep like Nikol does. I also wish she wouldn't get up and go tend to them (not even feeding them, they're always fed before we go to sleep, she goes and pets them) when they do scream at our door (when she hears them) because it just reinforces that behavior. Ugh. Every night, all night long since she's been gone the cats have kept me from even imagining what sleep feels like with their constant screaming.

Saturday night there was a horrific fight upstairs from us with a woman screaming and screaming. Were I in America, I would've called the cops. But I'm in Russia, so what can I do? It was nauseating.

I'm exhausted right now. I've slept 11 hours in the last 4 days (maybe 45 minutes at a time). And I had to teach today.

Mostly, I can't wait to have my gf back.

This week is going to be crazy busy for me (us). Monday morning I have two news students, in the evening I have three old students. After that NIKOL GETS HOME!!!! YAY!!! I can't wait for that.

Tuesday will be only one lesson and a crazy day for Nikol.

Wednesday late afternoon, we have a young man coming to visit us from the states who wants to get a job at my school. I guess I'll have to cancel my Wednesday evening lesson. It'll probably be worth it to the school, though.

Thursday, I have lessons again in the morning with my new students and one evening lesson. Plus, we'll have Phil, who seems fantastic but I'm trying to figure out when to fit in his "Lessons on the Metro".

Thank gourd I'm crampy now so I won't be next week. I can't bear to get up, still. I think menopause is coming upon me because my "monthlies" are either two weeks apart and two days long (like nothing!) or two weeks apart and nine days long. It's making me hormonally nutty, believe me. Plus I am always hot. I sweat like a pig last night with the window open and it's 4 degrees Celsius outside right now.

Friday, I have my meeting with the immigration service and I finally have all my paperwork so it will be a longer meeting. I'll have to be "on". This is SOOOOOOOOOOOOO important to me. Then that night Nikol and I go to the Repino Spa again. Thank heavens. I'll be very ready.

I think my school will be thrilled with Phil.

He died a few years ago. I'm not sure when as my family never keeps me in the loop. He tried to contact me (I heard this but I never saw any attempts at contact--I have had the same email address for nearly 15 years!). He was my first step-father. He had some serious issues. He'd been in Vietnam and had been shot in the stomach. Every night he screamed when he slept. Every night he was shot in the stomach. Poor man.

He was younger than my Mom when she married him and I only met him after Mom came home pregnant with his child. I'd gone through over a year of trying to pretend we still had adults in the house when she finally came home. That was when I was 16. So I was pretty pissed off by being left parent-less for a year. I mean, I have to go to school but yet I have to see my sister and brother off to school, and yet I have to work all night so I can pay for our food. I was in ruins when I was 16. I was death warmed over. And when my mom came home? She kindly read my diary.

She saw I was a lesbian and then the real shit started. Y'know I was already exhausted but she told me that I'd have to go to counseling for the fact that I was a lesbian and not the fact that I'd been the sole caretaker of our family, without parents. Yeah, I don't think I'll do that.

I was heavily suicidal then but Robert came to my room and hugged me sincerely and said, "I'm very Catholic and my religion says that you're wrong. But I know you, and you're not wrong. You're a wonderful young woman." That changed my life. We hugged and hugged and cried and cried.

Then Justin was born and though he's long since died (he died in 2004) he gave me hope for humanity. My mom was always kind of cruel but Robert was always a nice guy. Except that night he showed up in my doorway wearing nothing and I realized he thought WE were lovers. No, dude, you're married to my mom. Go away. I'd forgive him that but he did it again and then I'm sorry, Mom, I will no longer help with your baby. I will go get my own life.

I'm really sad that Robert died without me appreciating his place in my life. But I also think he gave up that privilege when he rubbed his big fat naked belly (in the middle of his whole nakedness) when I was a suffering 16 year old and needed someone, anyone, to be NOT sexual with me. (Did I tell you about my dad?)

Robert, if you had kept up being kind to me and being YOU, I would love you beyond words. As it is I kind of hate you.

I do know that Nikol is epileptic. I know she never has a seizure when she's sitting. I have seen for myself that when she's in a sweltering environment she will drop. Our first year together she "dropped" four times. This is incredibly scary to me. Well, because for the first three drops I had no idea she had epilepsy. We were still not speaking the same language.

Now I know she has epilepsy, and I've read all about it. But her case is not usual. It's quite unusual. 60% of epileptic sufferers are ameliorated by drugs. She is not. Nor is her twin. They will drop here and there, but they always know beforehand by "auras" that they're going to drop. Nikol has always told me, "I'm bad."

I'm very reluctant to post this here because it's been nearly a YEAR since Nikol last dropped. Doesn't mean I stop thinking about it.

I never let her out of my sight, if I can help it. Sometimes I can't help but be separated from her. I have to go to work. She has to go to work. She lived for 41 years without me. I need to back off. But she also has scars on her face and has lost teeth to her seizures.

I'm never pleased to be separated from her.

But I'm quite proud of how I've "trained" Nikol. It isn't really "training" at all. It's that she respects my input and opinions.

When we've traveled to America, at first she was pretty stubbornly Russian-- meaning she was pushy and short-tempered. Now that she understands the "American brain", she's wonderful (like in Alaska).

She's definitely "trained" me, too. In highly positive ways. I'm far less inhibited and far more out-going. I have nearly eliminated my phone fear.

Nikol seems much softer now. She can be a force, and sometimes I really want her to be a force, but it's directed in mainly appropriate ways now (okay, to MY sensibility).

Anyway, we fight rarely now. A huge difference from even nine months ago. I think our strengthened language skills have a lot to do with that. Now that we understand each other's reasoning behind requests, acquiescing is a pleasure rather than an imposition.

And on Friday we will have been together for two years. So exciting. She's such a brilliant, talented and disciplined woman and I am in awe of her every day.