Super-Duper Wacky n' Tacky Euro Adventure

This is the last post...

2007-06-26T23:34:00.000+02:00

I'm very sorry to those who were looking to a finale of sorts to this blog. I could never quite get myself in the mood to write the end. For those who crave more, however, be sure to check out http://vagabeto.blogspot.com. There I will be tracking my summer without a home.

Thanks so much for reading and I wish everyone luck in all of life's adventures; be they in Europe or elsewhere.

Written earlier...

2006-09-12T04:34:00.000+02:00

I start this entry in the McDonalds of the Frankfurt international airport. I was quite enjoying the 30 minutes of free wireless, but now being forced to pay, and not having any chance of catching another nap, I start another journal entry in Microsoft Word like I have done so many times before. This will be one of the last ones. It should have been the last one except that my terrible updating as of late means that I still need to get some pics of the last few weeks onto the ‘ol bloggy blog. Those come soon.

Well, quite similar to my entry just over a year ago in the Houston airport, my mood seems to be in the gutter with existing circumstances. Of course it doesn’t help that I’ve been trying to reset my body-clock early; however, seeing as it is now 4:20 am in Denver right now, we can see that isn’t quite working too well.

Saying goodbye is tough. Always is. But yesterday and today I didn’t just say goodbye to people very close to me, I said goodbye to one hell of a year abroad. And the stories and memories and experiences that go along with it. It’s funny how much I was looking forward to getting back to Stanford for the past month that I was just in complete denial that the day would ever come where I would have to step on that plane back to the States. And when it comes it sucks. I’m frankly not ready. I was always joking with people that the reason I returned to Moscow for the summer is because they couldn’t force me back to the States quite yet. But now they are. I like Europe. I like Moscow. I like Paris. For all the bribes, traveling losses, late nights, and teary eyes, goddam, this was a good year. Well, I’m never to good at reflecting (how did I ever get through the International School of the Americas?) so I’ll leave you here and encourage you to do what I generally try to do but sometimes fail miserably: keep looking ahead. It’s not looking too bad. But it’s awful hard for me to look in that direction right now.

Last day in work =

2006-09-08T13:50:00.000+02:00

последний день в работе (posledniy den v rabote)

Yes it has arrived and today is my last day in work. What is it about Moscow that makes the time just pass way too freaking quickly? Well, no use complaining about it, just gotta enjoy it while you can.

And speaking of enjoying oneself, it seems to be a Russian specialty. Since starting here about two and a half months ago, there have been at least three going away parties for co-workers. This tradition isn't so foreign except for a couple of reasons. First of all. There is alcohol. As I was informed, it isn't like this at all Russian firms (that not the Ernst and Young way!) but it seems to be the norm here. As I speak, the company's driver is out getting "supplies." Second of all, the attitude isn't so much "it's great that your moving on and I want to throw a party to commend you" but more "you're moving on and you're going to buy me beer and pizza to show your appreciation for the firm." Oh boy. Well, that was an interesting proposition for a lowly intern earning, well, not that much. So I was both dreading and looking forward to today throughout this past week. While looking into buying supplies today, however, I learned that our amazing secretary was already "all over that shit," as they say in the states. She had sent out a driver to pick up supplies and wasn't even fully aware that it was my last day. This tells me two things: 1) Something else is happening. The company just doesn't throw parties like this on a whim. 2) I don't have to go broke! She told me to just buy a cake and I'll be golden. As to what else is happening, I think my boss just got promoted to director of the Moscow office. But don't tell anyone I said that, I think they're supposed to find out in a couple of hours.

Anyway, it is a sad last day, and yes, I am using part of it to update my blog. But hey, I rarely update anyway, so I don't feel so bad. I already spent the better part of the morning getting a project done that was due "an hour ago" at the time it was handed to me. Enough work. It's time to kick back with some pizza and beer and reflect on what a great summer it has been.

Gotta give a review...

2006-08-31T15:18:00.000+02:00

of our weekend trip to before I forget it!

*Approximately one week ago I was gearing up for a prime game of Beirut to be played at our friend Paddy's house. No he's not American, but he loves it anyway! Actually, I think there were only two yanks.
*What I seemed to forget was how early in the morning our flight was the next day.
*Getting up on Friday morning: not so zesty.
*A way too long public transportation trek to the airport on the opposit side of town. Hour and a half was it?
*Meeting the (literally) cheery James at Domodevskaya metro. Damn morning people.
*Tatarstan Airlines again?? I thought we bought with Sibir!
*Have you ever rode a plane whose manufacturer's name is "YAK 43" and boarded it through it's ass ? I have.
* Nizhni Novgorod is one of the biggest cities in Russia. The airport was slightly bigger than my freshman dorm.
*Complete winging it in Nizhni for awhile. First order: find a random bus and ask the locals how to get downtown.
*Somehow we get there and find the local pedestrian street that is the city's center. It's bustling (not really).
*We find a quality biznes lanch for 150 roobs each that included a bottle of French (not really) wine.
*Tour of the Kremlin. Nizhni style. It's not as cool, but still very beautiful and chock full of the obligatory pregnant brides with depressed grooms and their entourages following with champagne and vodka.
*Alright, that's about it. I'm ready for Cheboksari (Olya's hometown and recently declared center of the universe).
*After deciding a taxi would cost too much. We shell out about $7 for a 250km ride to Cheboksari. Nice.
*We found out why it was so cheap: no available oxygen. Instead a fresh supply of smog and sweaty Russians to fill our sinuses. Don't blow your nose, you won't like what comes out.
*We finally make it and chow down on yummy yumminess made by Sveta and Baba Zoya (famed cooks and rumored relatives of Olya's).
*Oh no. Of all places, we go to the local Irish pub! Love the union jack that greets everyone as they walk in the doors.
*Next morning brings Oly's baptism. Yes baptism for a 26 year old. You see, some family friends wanted her to be their baby's Godmother, but she had to be baptized herself. Thus the whole reason for coming down in the first place. So her baptism took awhile. Round three hours. Cute service (is that what they're called?), but the lack of seats in the small Russian Orthodox church got very old very quickly.
*We get some authentic Chuvash cuisine for lunch. Kinda like Russian cuisine, but more bold at times.
*Prepare for the next activity: some beers and snacks.
*The ultimate in relaxation: banya. For three hours, Ksenya's (the good getting baptized the next day) parents treated us to Cheboksary's premier banya; the president of Chuvashia is rumored to frequent the place. That's not sarcastic, but to say that it was really nice and quite the classy place. It included a sauna, cooling pool, numerous showers (one with a radio), changing room, some kind of pool table, electric massage tables, and relaxation room with kettle, refrigerator, and leather couches. Oh yeah, there was also a nice bathroom with a faulty lock; ask Petya for details.
*More and more yummy homemade food, this time From Petya's mom. BTW, Petya has possibly some of the coolest parents I've ever met. Too many things to list, but here's a great example: his dad was going 4 years strong reading Ulyses for fun.
*City wandering with a few beers. Jeeze, that was a tiring day.
*A great sleep and a great breakfast. Unfortunately Olya was off again to take care of the baptism stuff.
*So the rest of us went to take a journey across the river to the lush and beautiful forest along the Volga River.
*There we end up meeting up quite the legend: Narodnaya Actrisa (a big deal title in the USSR and Russia) Vera Koumina a.k.a. Petya's grandma. No idea how old she was, but she was dragging us along the forest, where she was on vacation, pointing out the wild mushrooms and Chuvash wood sculptures that dotted the forest and were made by a friend of hers.
*With full supplies we gather the basic materials for a fire to cook our sausages that were the center piece of our picnic.
*An hour and a half, a lot of wood, and two valiant attempts later, we had no fire. The wood might have been a tad too damp. Oh well, there was actually plenty of other great stuff to munch on and we ended up full nonetheless.
*Back to the mainland. It's not really the mainland, but taking a fairy across a huge river back to the city really makes you feel like you've been on an island for the past four hours.
*A quick visit to Petya's and another way-too-yummy dinner at Olya's and it was already time to finish the weekend and head back to Moscow.
*Almost the entire city of Cheboksary was at the one train station which sends off a nightly train to Moscow. Armed with beer, crab apples, and about seven people total in our party, we reluctantly said goodbye and made our 12 hour journey back to the big city. Sad, yes, I know. But we made the train trip the most of what we could. Not all the beer was drank, but damn, there was a lot. And hey, if we had had the mental capacity to find the last beer, I'm sure we would have drank that too.
*Anyway, next morning. 7am Moscow. How many times have I felt that same feeling of "why did I drink on the train last night?" while cruising the early-morning metro on Monday in Moscow?
*BTW, if you're ever wondering, Amerikanski Bar i Grill does one hell of a breakfast. Plus it was about a fifteen minute walk to my work. Happy days.
*In to work a little early to change into the shirt and shoes that I had left the previous Thursday. On my way in, before changing, I get a comment from my supervisor: "long night?"
*"No. Long weekend." But a good one.

Oh man it's been awhile...

2006-08-30T08:38:00.000+02:00

I'm really falling behind here. What ever happened to 'sure, I'll update every other day!'? Well, before I get into our wonderful weekend in Chubashiya, a quick anecdote to show you that no matter what, Russia always get's the best of you - even if it has nothing to do with the crippling bureacracy or people at all for that matter.

So to properly understand the summer weather here, you have to understand that it is nothing like the predictable summers you get in most places in the states. First of all, we're still very far north which means that we are susceptible to cold fronts (yes that's right) even during the summer. Another thing is that like most Northern European towns, air conditioners are just not that common here. Which means when it gets above 30 celcius (about 86) it gets rediculously hot and sweaty around these parts. And you thought Russians were stinky through the other parts of the year. The last thing is that there is a lot of rain and cool thunderstorms which always provide a great show but also make trying to predict what you're going to wear to work and deciding weather or not to bring an umbrella, a difficult task.

So anyway, my parents, with there nice March visit in Paris brought me many wonderful things from the United States - one of which is Claritin D; the allergy sufferers proverbial water from the holy grail. I take "as-is," so I thought the ten box supply would do me fine through the rest of my time in Europe. Not so much. I found the lone last pill yesterday getting ready for work. 'No,' I thought. 'I'll save it for a day when I really need it. Besides, looks like a pretty mild day out there.' It actually had been nice and mild (with a few cold ones mixed in) for awhile and the mild wind probably wouldn't provoke the flowers too much. And it didn't. The problem was it did get a bit hot yesterday. Not too bad (I think 28 celcius), but enough too fire up the ol' air conditioner in the office. No problem. Earlier in June and July I was ready to convert to air conditionology for the cool and refreshing relief that was my personal savior during the earlier heat-wave. But yesterday she turned on me. As I found out earlier, Russians aren't big on changing their filters. I don't even think they have a concept of filters. At least not in this office. Dust. Lots of it. I could almost see it spewing out from the drudges of sleepy filter-confined solitude and delightfully sprayed out in the air and swept into my sinuses. At least 9 times in a row. Well, that's what I counted. Usually I'm a one-time sneezer. I get giddy when people like my dad go over two times. Think it's the most hilarious thing in the world. By my fourth I was halfway down to the batroom after finding no tissues in my bag and the napkin-holder in the kitchen conveniently empty. It was a terrible sight. You can only imagine. Thank God I'm past that "awkward intern" stage and most people were able to laugh it off.

After returning to my desk armed with an entire roll of toilet paper, my sinuses gave my poor nose a break and only eeked out a few more over the course of an hour. The absolute worst part, however, is how my friendly co-worker Sveta (who is generally opposed to all air-conditioners) kindly reminded me how any cold air makes people sick, offering my current state as an example, and told me how I would probably be missing work tomorrow because I now have a cold. Why the mommy-medicine mentality people? Russians are big on science. I know it. Why do they cling to these outdated, unproven falsehoods? Anyway, after endless arguing earlier this summer on the same subject, I could do nothing but blow my nose, shake my head, and utter one simple word which I knew wouldn't convince her in the least bit: "dust."

I now have that last pill in my pocket and it's itching to be swallowed. Nope. High of 18 ('bout 67) today. No air conditioning necessary. Best save it for a day when I really need it.

Word

2006-08-22T14:59:00.000+02:00

принарядиться (prinaryaditsya) - to spruce oneself up

Didn't actually discover this one myself, but too good to leave out.

Well, I'm becoming quite the neglectful blogger. Yes, things are happening, but I just can't seem to find that time to update. Today I find myself with a surprising lack of work (I actually have yet to do anything productive today except checkup on my paycheck). A few quick highlights from this weekend:

*Micha accidentally overstayed her visa. Whoops. Big whoops.
*Frantic last-minute preparations for a trip down to the volga-region for this next weekend
*Meeting Fiona's co-workers for their "due-leave" (I think that's what she called it) at a typical Russian restaurant: ambiguous "eastern" decoration with lots of hookahs, shashliks, and needless face control.
*Dave is back on game and we end up out the Silver's of this summer: Tema.
*As usual, good times at Tema.
*Wait a minute, WHERE'S DAVE?
*Phew, there he is.
*An "early" night: in before 3 am.
*Metelitsa's Sport Land casino bar for a full day of English Premiership football.
*Damn, that's a lot of soccer.
*Escape for a red bull and shaurma.
*Leaving Fiona to an awkward conversation with my boss as I go play blackjack.
*I actually won! Better get out quick before I lose my winnings!
*Dave is really back in full form and ready for another night out.
*Never, ever go to Park Avenue Disco, no matter how cheap they say the drinks are. Face control is sometimes a good thing.
*Rediscovering Fabrique and endless oontz oontz dance music till 4am.
*Vodka shots are the cheapest drinks on the menu.
*Sleep almost all day Sunday.
*Jazz at the hermitage gardens. Yeah.
*An extremely pleasant dinner at Margarita Cafe right on Patriarchs Ponds while being serenaded by two very enthusiastic female violinists.
*The entire French community in Moscow only dines at Margarita Cafe.
*Farewell drinks at Micha's apartment. I hope that's a joke. We'll find out soon.

Good luck to Micha and her adventures to Estonia and dealing with the Russian authorities. Last night Dave, Anna, and Josh brought over some ping pong balls, cups, and beers as we played a few games of Beirut in your honor. We hope you were very honored.

3 Words

2006-08-17T15:37:00.000+02:00

змеи на самолете (emei na samolote) - snakes on a plane

I've been following this little movie and some of its fan creations from abroad for awhile now. It opens tomorrow in the states and this is probably the first time that I would much prefer to be home than in Russia, just to see this quality film. Better be showing when I get back.

So I know I'm still terrible at updating. And all my pics aren't up from Turkey even though the trip was almost a month ago. But our home internet is really slow! I know, I know, you're saying: "but Beto, why don't you update at work where you have broadband?" Well, the answer to that question is that I am the hardest-working intern that ever got payed terrible wages and I don't have time for such trivialities. That or I'm just getting lazy with the blog. Most likely the latter.

A rough one in work this morning thanks to a little going away party for our British buddy Jamie who is taking time out to head back to the big island and participate in some "army games" as he puts it. Since he won't be drinking for the next three months, he tried to stick it all in last night and invited me to join in. Oy. Oh man, I can't even oy without my head hurting.

2006-08-13T21:54:00.000+02:00

Our best friends from Orenburg: Olya and Denis.
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2006-08-13T21:53:00.000+02:00

Bread in the middle of the street. No reason.
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2006-08-13T21:52:00.000+02:00

Caught eating Burger King.
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2006-08-13T21:50:00.000+02:00

The best part of the shop - old men playing backgammon and enjoying the free air conditioning.
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2006-08-13T21:43:00.000+02:00

Look ma! The nice man made me Turkish!
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2006-08-13T21:34:00.000+02:00

Oh yeah, a shave. The only sales pitch that actually worked on me.
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2006-08-13T21:33:00.001+02:00

The dolmush view.
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2006-08-13T21:33:00.000+02:00

Dolmush: like a marshutka but even more convenient. You can can get picked up or dropped off wherever you want!
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2006-08-13T21:32:00.000+02:00

A quick stroll out to the pier reveals a beatiful nighttime view.
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2006-08-13T21:31:00.001+02:00

My partner in crime feigns the same amount of interest.
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2006-08-13T21:31:00.000+02:00

Doner Kebap!!!
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2006-08-13T21:29:00.000+02:00

Represent.
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2006-08-13T21:27:00.000+02:00

And from the outside. A bad ass joing with four floors of yummy music to choose from.
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2006-08-13T21:19:00.000+02:00

Robin Hood club from the inside.
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2006-08-13T21:17:00.000+02:00

No these aren't actual people dancing behind cages. They are pained figures and an empty dance floor from the club that we got duped into visiting by the Hotel's "animation staff." We promptly headed to the Alanya city center.
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2006-08-13T21:15:00.000+02:00

She's been in Russia so long, she almost has it down.
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2006-08-13T21:14:00.000+02:00

Outdoor night club; would never work in Moscow.
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2006-08-13T21:09:00.000+02:00

Everyone needs a vodka-red bull and gratiutous man-cleavage.
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2006-08-13T21:00:00.000+02:00

Alanya nights
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2006-08-13T20:58:00.000+02:00

I try my hand at a Russian pose.
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2006-08-13T20:45:00.000+02:00

And we've arrived and there's an open bar.
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2006-08-13T20:42:00.000+02:00

Random camel. No reason.
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2006-08-13T20:41:00.002+02:00

Someone doesn't like their picture taken early in the morning.
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2006-08-13T20:41:00.001+02:00

Oh so awake at 6 am!
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2006-08-13T20:41:00.000+02:00

The very best boarding technology from Tartarstan air: writing in the seat number.
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Friday...

2006-08-11T14:55:00.000+02:00

�� (chistit pacudu) - to scrub dishes

This is what I will be doing on my Friday night. Somewhat like my blog, I have left two full sinks worth of dishes that need to be scrubbed before I can even consider feeding myself. Also, the extra dishes that have spilled over to the table are preventing any language classes that Olya and I have planned. Well, in less than an hour, I know what I'm off to do.

2006-08-02T15:38:00.000+02:00

вид (vid) - look(s), appearance, air
с убитым видом — with a crushed look, looking crushed/depressed

I was s ubitim vidom when I recieved about the hundredth Chuck Norris facts knock-off in a forwarded e-mail. They are all the same except substitute general male movie/television star at the beginning of the facts and you have something kinda funny, but really, only simple overstatement which actually resolves itself within the context. Sadly the funniest part of the facts(i.e. its overwhelming irony with the fact that the subject is Chuck Norris. Not Jack Bauer. Not David Hasslehoff. Not Paul O'Connell (non-Irish don't ask)) is utterly and completely lost. Chuck freakin' Norris! Is it only me and Conan who realize how absolutely rediculous these jokes originally were? Aya! All I have to say is: Long live Walker, Texas Ranger.

If you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, ask me about it sometime later.

Something that's easy to forget:

2006-07-31T15:47:00.000+02:00

Срок (Srok) - 1)term; date, deadline 2) period
в срок, к сроку - in time.

Since I have a quicker ride to work, if I leave the apartment at 8:30, I will easily get to my office in time by nine. Unfortunately Fiona works a bit farther down the line and apparently I have been getting her into work chronically late. Whoops. Looks like I'll have to try harder to be v srok.

An acronym:

2006-07-27T14:04:00.000+02:00

НДС - VAT
As in: Damn, the НДС on my new Blahniks was out of control!

Just so you konw, most European countries include the VAT (which is almost always hire than any "sales tax" in the US) in the price, so you never really know how much of it you're paying. Sneaky.

Well, what I thought would be a great relaxing vacation in Turkey turned out to give me just about as much sleep as I usually get here in Moscow, i.e. I'm about to collapse on my keyboard. But that's ok cause the vacay was soooo worth it. I can genuinely say I highly enjoyed my time there. There were many highlights. I'll try to remember a few:

-Soviet planes to and from Antalya airport. Thank God there was my massive sleep debt to distract me from the horrors of a communist-built 70's plane.
-Tartarstan Airlines?
-How come it takes us two hours from the airport to reach our hotel?
-After finally getting there, of course our room isn't ready. "Would you like to visit the bar?" Ok.
-Open Bar.
-Open buffet of ochen yummy food at every meal. Mmmmm...kefta meat and mint-yoghurt.
-Calling the front desk to notify them that the air conditioner is not working: "Of course it's not working! It only works from 2-6pm and 10pm-2am. Duh!"
-Boy it's hot in here. Let's go to the pool!
-"Say, have you heard a single word of English here?"
-"Что?"
-Olya said there aren't any mosquitos in Turkey. Boy oh boy was she wrong.
-Waking up at 8 on Sat? Man, this working life has way too much influence on the ol' sleep cycle.
-The "meeting" about available excursions was in Russian. Very, very fast Russian. We didn't go on any excursions.
-Cannon ball!
-Why am I tanning? I don't need to tan!
-Met a very cute couple from Orenburg on vacation as well. They were our Turkey best buddies for the rest of the trip.
-Into Alanya for clubbing. I like this no cover-charge deal.
-Why do I hear "My Hips Don't Lie?" freakin' everywhere!
-Would have loved to sleep in on Sun. No such luck without airconditioning.
-2pm, head to the room! We must nap when the air is on!
-Is it bad to order 2 drinks like you're getting one for someone else, and then have Fiona go up and do the exact same thing? Nah. It's cool.
-We got talked into going to 'Auditorium Club' from a guy who worked for the hotel and promised one of the best clubs in Turkey. $15 and a "cocktail" (I only tasted juice) later, we were stuck in a gigantic club with about 15 Russians from our hotel and 30 eerie Turkish men. By 1 we bounced to central Alanya to get back to the good stuff.
-More Shakira and other dance hits.
-Efes on the streets and inbetween club-hopping provides a great alternative to paying for those drink prices.
-Mmmm. Authentic Doner Kebap.
-Got back in time for a couple precious air conditioner hours.
-Back to Antaly for a bit of cheesy souvenir shopping.
-Got lured into a barber shop for a cheap shave and ended up getting the works done. Refer to future pics for all the fun.
-Damn those turks know how to deal with all kinds of facial hair.
-More kebap.
-Stuff ourselves silly on our last dinner buffet and hang out with our buddies one last time.
-4am alarm rings and our vacay is over waaay too soon.
-End up conveniently stopping at a Turkish Delight candy factory for forty five minutes on the way to the airport. Why did you get me up at 4am?
-Tartarstan airlines actually gets us back to Moscow safely and we rest at home before starting up at work the next morning.

Oh, the memories. Gotta remember to get those pics up soon. As is required in Moscow, Our weekend is already completely full with people to see and things to do. We get a new roommate(another one!?) on Saturday who promises to punish my kidneys for the month he is here. How mysterious.

Today's word...

2006-07-20T08:24:00.000+02:00

is каникула (kanikula) - vacation.
As in this weekend, I will be on каникула in Antalya, Turkey. Holla! Gotta love those "hot deals!" that are advertised all around town. Turns out they're pretty good deals. Flight there and back, airport transfer, and all-inclusive hotel for 4 days, 4 nights and a little over 3 bills. Hot damn. It's gonna be hot, but that's OK since I'll be by either a pool or the ocean for the entire weekend (and then some (got some days off of work))!

Word:

2006-07-17T13:15:00.000+02:00

договор (dogovor) - contract, agreement; treaty, pact
договор о зваимной помощи - mutual assistance pact

This weekend was mysterious and eventful. We managed to keep one of two nights from being completely nuts and still ended up with a tired Sunday with no time to accomplish any of those weekend projects (like cleaning the apartment) that seem to keep eluding us.

Slowly I'm getting to know my co-workers better and today's biznes lanch was another great chance to get to know my colleagues except that my Russian is still so bad I can't possible follow what they're talking about. Then I slow them down by turning the conversation to English. Gotta get on that. Tonight should be my first Russian lesson with in-house teacher Olya. Hope I can dust off the notebooks and get to learnin'!

New Word

2006-07-14T12:20:00.000+02:00

причина (prichina) - cause; reason; motive
причина и следствие - cause and effect

This weekend brings clowns, club reviews, and cars in the city center of Moscow. A classic weekend where we will again attempt to catch up on sleep but probably fail miserably. Should be good times.

Whatever happened to the word of the day?

2006-07-11T14:33:00.000+02:00

It's been so long, but it must return! One of the main reasons I'm over here is to continue with my Russian after-all. Today I recived my first translation assignment and that gives me a perfect opportunity to start the word of the day back up again. I'll try to write in cyrillic and the latin transliteration. But of course you can never rely on me remembering to do this.

Today's word is услуга (usluga) - a service
К Вашим услугам - at your service

The cup is over...

2006-07-10T14:41:00.000+02:00

And I really hope that my nights can begin to return to normal. For too long now the games have been starting in Moscow at 11 pm and always seem to reach extra time and penalty kicks to seemingly taunt my fatigued self. Then every singly team I root for is eliminated. I can almost legitimately root for a team in the final and then that doesn't go well and the vodka on the table was just too convenient to ease the pain. Then the physical pain came this morning as I attempted to get up for work this morning. Oy, it was a rough one. For such an important tournament, it really never seems to be at a convenient time! And like always, for most people who come from the western hemisphere, overwhelming dissapoint is the only guaranteed feeling to be extracted from the last four weeks. It was a good tournament, but a big, very sleepy part of me is glad it's finally over.

It was pointed out to me...

2006-07-05T15:27:00.000+02:00

yesterday that the pics below can be a little confusing since they span much more than one weekend. Most of them are from my time in Berlin, but there's also stuff in there from the end of the quarter in Paris and our class trip to Strasbourg to visit the European Court of Human Rights. The camera isn't getting nearly as many clicks as it used to, but maybe that will change soon. This Friday is our roommate Olya's birthday. We're hoping to have a mix of people over to celebrate. Maybe the camera will come out then.

I'm in work...

2006-07-04T08:59:00.000+02:00

and I'm not doing anything particularly exciting. Actually it's really boring busy work that only an intern would get. They're called compliance reviews; a fancy name for some poor schmuck that checks that all the necessary signatures and initials in the audit reports are complete. Then I stumbled upon something good. I knew that one of the managers here had the initials VP. He's Russian. And according to one of these files, his last name is Popov. Brilliant.

Oh freshman year! How I remember your cheap, cheap vodka that came in a plastic jug and delightfully bore the name Popov in bright white blocks against a solid red backgroud, evoking images of the good ol' Soviet days. I doubt it's true, but I'm personally choosing to believe that this guy's family is definitely the producer of said vodka.

2006-07-01T15:14:00.000+02:00

Finally getting back to Russia and I'm ready to flex my culinary muscles again without the burden of a host family. This is the result. Oh no. It could be a very long summer.
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2006-07-01T15:11:00.000+02:00

What?! A duracell bunny? Did I miss something here. I've asked other Europeans. Apparently this is not the least bit odd.
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2006-07-01T15:10:00.001+02:00

For some damn reason, you just cannot avoid a ferris wheel if it's available. Why?!
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2006-07-01T15:10:00.000+02:00

So these girls totally ambushed me and Darren with German flag paint, but we were both ok with it for some reason.
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2006-07-01T15:09:00.001+02:00

A drum circle always livens the party.
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2006-07-01T15:09:00.000+02:00

Don't know if it's an actual mile, but it was a bloody long street of DJs, big screens, and beer every five feet.
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2006-07-01T15:08:00.001+02:00

Arriving at fan-mile.
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2006-07-01T15:08:00.000+02:00

The Americans and Italians celebrate a well-fought game and a 1-1 result.
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2006-07-01T15:06:00.001+02:00

Although it is very tough to tell, that is the actual (OMG!) world cup trophy being held in the middle of the crowd and broadcasted by the commentators during half-time.
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2006-07-01T15:06:00.000+02:00

Those suckers in the stadium seating had to wait forever while we got the choice restaurant tickets with a perfect view of the screen.
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2006-07-01T15:04:00.002+02:00

The lovely ladies with the most Mexican pride I've seen in awhile.
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2006-07-01T15:04:00.001+02:00

Potsdame Platz to watch the Italy v. US game.
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2006-07-01T15:04:00.000+02:00

Basketball court at the Stanford center. No, I'm not jealous.
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2006-07-01T15:03:00.001+02:00

Where I spent at least half of my time in Berlin: at the Stanford center redoing the paper I accidentaly erased the day before.
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2006-07-01T15:03:00.000+02:00

There was a random giant circle so we of course had to see who could get the highest.
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2006-07-01T15:02:00.000+02:00

We all enjoy the modern architecture.
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2006-07-01T15:01:00.001+02:00

An international broadcast (we think it was in arabic) is crashed by drunk Germans and yours truly.
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2006-07-01T15:01:00.000+02:00

Darren the expert demonstrates how you can't really see anything at night.
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2006-07-01T15:00:00.002+02:00

The city.
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2006-07-01T15:00:00.001+02:00

Potsdamer Platz where I spent the entire previous day.
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2006-07-01T15:00:00.000+02:00

We of course are extremely excited.
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2006-07-01T14:59:00.001+02:00

The Reichstag.
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2006-07-01T14:59:00.000+02:00

The Germans were finally out to show their pride even on a non-game night.
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2006-07-01T14:58:00.000+02:00

Of course I don't remember the names of any of the sights I saw, but this gigantic ball in front of that famous monument was a definite highlight.
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2006-07-01T14:56:00.000+02:00

This is one of Puma's more brilliant ideas: A travelling trolley store that stops every once in awhile and manages to just confuse the hell out of people instead of enticing them in.
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2006-07-01T14:55:00.001+02:00

Mexicans and not go to the local Latino joint in Berlin to watch the game.
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2006-07-01T14:55:00.000+02:00

We challenged these fellow Mexicans to a shot for every goal that we scored. They happily obliged, but the team did not as a 0-0 tie put a damper on that one.
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2006-07-01T13:59:00.000+02:00

This is the out-of-control 60 inch flat screen at the Berlin center with convenient wi-fi making studying and the World Cup to new glorious heights.
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2006-07-01T13:58:00.001+02:00

Look at how rediculous that hair was getting!
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2006-07-01T13:58:00.000+02:00

These kids aren't nearly as excited
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2006-07-01T13:57:00.001+02:00

Future judges.
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2006-07-01T13:57:00.000+02:00

This is the ECHR building.
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2006-07-01T13:51:00.000+02:00

The EU and ECHR centers here are nothing really more than fancy buildings.
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2006-07-01T13:50:00.001+02:00

Oooh. How international.
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2006-07-01T13:50:00.000+02:00

Tim and I actually find a beer on a Monday night in this lonely town.
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2006-07-01T13:49:00.001+02:00

The most exciting thing in Strasbourg.
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2006-07-01T13:49:00.000+02:00

Metro Line 14 is completely machine-operated leaving little kids and Johnny to live out their deep-seeded fantasies of operating a metro train.
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2006-07-01T13:47:00.001+02:00

We had a good time anyway.
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2006-07-01T13:47:00.000+02:00

We wanted to get into the Mexico V. France friendly, but our student budgets forced us to the pub beside the stadium with all the other poor Mexicans and Frenchies.
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2006-07-01T13:46:00.001+02:00

And Munster wins!
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2006-07-01T13:46:00.000+02:00

Johnny loves his windows.
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2006-07-01T13:45:00.000+02:00

An ode to that one time Johnny scarfed down on ten microwaved hot dogs and a mustard-smeared baguette for a grand total of 1.92 euro. Well done.
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Today...

2006-06-30T14:42:00.000+02:00

is one of my less busy days as it seems much of the office is busy getting some audit (whoda thunk it!) done by today and they don't have time to continue giving pet projects to the intern. Good for them, and my nytime.com browsing skills, but not so good for productivitys sake.

Can you believe that on Sunday I will have already have been here for two weeks?! Me neither! That's what this crazy town does to you. It just keeps you so damn busy that already the time is passing way way too quickly.

Yesterday I took a quick trip to my local bougie grocery store (they don't charge for the plastic bags!) as I was hankering for something hardy at dinner time. After rummaging through the store and settling on potatoes and some sort of pork cutlets, it was time to make my exit. But not before strolling the impulse aisle before you get to the register. I settled on a pack of Orbit Мятный Бриз, as my Costco gum supply that my parents presented me with on their visit a few months ago had now vanished. I got out my rubes, payed the lady, and franticly tried to bag all my stuff before the next customer booted me out of the way (It's not that bougie that they'll actually pack your bags for you!). I barely made it before being yelled at for being to slow and returned to the lockers to retrieve my bag. After fiddling with the key for about a minute, I got a tap on my shoulder and an uncomprehensible sentence from someone behind me. Turns out the checkout lady had left her post just to give me my pack of gum that I had forgotten by the plastic bags in my rush. I thanked her and took my gum, finally getting the locker open and liberating my belongings. I couldn't help but think of all those nay-sayers who say all Russians are mean and rude to strangers. I'm sure our constant anecdotes of unruly behavior sent home doesn't help the image back in the states. But these kinds of stories never do get told. So there you go. You never know when a complete stranger in Russia can make your day and save you 50 cents. Now if only the babushka at the entrance to the metro would stop yelling at me for reasons unknown!

Well, I don't feel quite so bad...

2006-06-26T10:57:00.000+02:00

for writing a quick entry because it's supposed to be my lunch break but the gargantuan tempest outside seems to be impeding my grave hunger. So I'll just take a little company time to update the ol' blog.

So a lot has definitely happened in the past week and I suppose the biggest is that I can actually take company time from my new internship to write this. As soon as I got in last Monday, I gave a call to my contact in Moore Stephens and an interview was set up for the next day. Turns out they were pretty certain on taking me, but they just needed to sit me down and make sure I wasn't completely off my rocker. Fair play. So I started last Friday and everything seems to be going fairly well so far. The firm is a mainly accounting and auditing firm that delves into stuff like consultancy every once in awhile. I'm working mostly with a very chill guy who's main job is putting together proposals for audits for a variety of Russian firms. Of course, the pay isn't great (in fact it sucks) but it's exactly what I need: a paying internship in the right field.

Moscow is kinda just how I remember it, except that the difference between seasons here is absolutely insane. Spring and summer welcome full trees, loudly playing kids (seemingly always outside the window!), and what is fondly referred to as пух. It's that stuff that grows on the ends of stemmed weeds around Texas that you can pick up and blow off for a wishful delight. It's not quite so delightful here because it is, quite frankly, everywhere. On the streets, in the room in the apartment, in my laptop case, in my hair, and other unmentionable locations. It's kinda like snow that makes one sneeze uncontrollably. Luckily the rain is known to tame this wild beast for a certain period of time.

I hate the world cup. No I don't. But my teams are out and I am in my period of grief right now. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the rest I suppose.

Rain seems to be calming down. Can't wait for the yummy sandwich that awaits me.

Wrote this one on the 18th...

2006-06-21T10:29:00.000+02:00

Looks like I’m finally on my way back to Russia. It’s been to long, but it feels weird to leave this side of Europe again. This past quarter has been so great, it’s hard to leave it behind. But at last, it must happen, and the summer must begin.

I’m right now in the international terminal (or as I thought of it, the ‘let’s give the Russians the ghetto terminal’) of Berlin Tegel International Airport. I have just spent a very whirlwind weekend in Berling occupying myself with mainly two things: 1) football, 2) The death penalty in a comparative perspective. Well, not in that order. But all three of my days went something like this: Wakeup. Eat doner kebap. Scavange the city for free internet or bum off of the Stanford Berlin center. Work a ridiculous amount on your paper that I erased five pages from on Thusday. More kebap, or bratwurst/curry wurst. Football and beer to finish the day. Wash, rinse, repeat. And what a cool environment going on in the city/country. My only regret is that I don’t have more time/money to do what everyone else is doing and simply follow your team around Germany and root ridiculously loud. Also, as I learned, your team jersey must be worn no matter if it’s game day or not. And always wear it with pride. Yesterday brought a particularly difficult situation as the American pride was surging with some decent play (as opposed to that other game) and I had nothing with which to represent. Darren and I thought to ourselves: ‘actually, I don’t know if I would be completely comfortable draping myself in the American flag.’ It just carries a bit too much, which is a shame. However, if Italy was going to win, I would have fully supported invading that country as well. What have they done for us lately? Guess I’ll just have to settle with buying myself a jersey (which is really ugly, nike!). Well, the game should have been ours but a tie is nice, and the outcome for progression will be learned next game day.

It appears the plane has arrived, and you know how the Russian’s love themselves a good line. Better get my babushka-shoving elbows ready.

Berlin

2006-06-15T13:04:00.000+02:00

Oh, I just had the most frantic dash to Gare du Nord after I was a little too lackadaisical with my packing and left just 45 minutes before my train left for me to cross town and with some really heavy bags. I don’t understand it. I just sent 10 kilos of winter clothes home (and it cost me too!) but my bags are still making me feel similar to a donkey in rural Mexico. Speaking of Mexico, I’ve seen so many Mexican jerseys hopping on to this exact train, and I haven’t really heard a word of French yet! I hope at least some of them stick around in Berlin with me to watch the game on the big screen.

Quick note about this train: It’s not a couchette. They are upright seats – six of them in a cabin that usually sleeps four – and there are none of the usual amenities I’ve come to expect (water, ear plugs, napkins). Oh the poor student’s life! Well, I can’t really complain at all since I got the ticket for the absolutely ridiculous price of 25 euro. Damn, I thought I might have the whole cabin to myself, but a French couple just walked in three minutes before the train leaves!

So Darren is in China. Yeah, I know I was supposed to meet up with him right away when I got in Berlin, but it just seems right in line with what Darren might do: just up and take a trip to China. Luckily he’ll be back by tomorrow night to begin the football festivities. It’s also good because I still have four pesky pages left on my human rights paper! I’ve been so bogged down with these stupid papers, but I guess I always have that good experience of writing forty-five freaking pages in a quarter! Whatever happened to the whole “abroad isn’t like on campus” mentality? Never trust the French to ever adopt an American mentality. The upside is I’m pretty sure the GPA will benefit from the work. I especially enjoyed my Econ class, and I’m a little disappointed that our teacher isn’t a teacher at Stanford (he’s from Sciences-Po). I would def choose him as my advisor in a second Actually, I haven’t even met my real advisor. I should set up a meeting with her when I get back to Stanford. I am supposed to be graduating soon after all (no, never!!!).

Alright, I’m waaaaay to bushed to write a longer entry than this. Special thanks to Tim and his amazing central-Paris apartment for making me so tired. The ‘gualle de bois’ has been worth it.

So the nachtung train wasn’t the beauty-sleep express, but I suppose it did the trick…for now. I got into zoogarten (that’s not the actual name, but rather what I prefer to call it) station at exactly 8:05am. These are the times when the added conveniences of overnight trains begin to not seem that nice. It’s before 11am right now and I am finding myself drinking my first coffee of the day. There will probably be more, and this weekend doesn’t have much of a big sleeping aspect attached to it. I might have gotten more sleep, but my lonely cabin (the couple left shortly after) was bombarded by a couple teenagers from Paris that were looking to chill and smoke certain substances without their cabin mates freaking out. I told them it was cool to crash the party and invited them in. After I got done with my IHT and they finished their sandwiched and chips we got to talking for awhile and had one of those great international conversations that you can only have on a train in Europe. In Brussels we picked up a Dutch character who added in to the fun. Five hours of sleep later and I got in to Berlin. I took a lovely walk from zoogarten to Potserdam Platz where I am now writing this entry. This area of town is ultra modern and cool and will probably be my main hand out area to chill with folks as we watch the games on the big screen this weekend.

In a distinct contrast to last night on the train, there seem to only be Swedish jerseys allowed in this city. I think that game is tomorrow or today, but either way, the fans are out in force. I like that most Europeans can get here for super cheap, and they seem to be bringing the whole family too. If I remember correctly, they’re playing Korea. That’s what it would seem as that’s the only other jerseys I’ve seen mixed in with the expected German and Brazilian affairs (how in the world are there so many Brazilian fans everywhere?).

Well I’m bushed and my paper, for some reason, doesn’t seem to be writing itself. Bummer. Gotta get to work.

It's bloody hot...

2006-06-13T12:54:00.000+02:00

but that's ok with me! The summer is most definitely welcome as it looks to get around 89 degrees (OMG!) in Paris today. Ok, I here the snikering from all the way over in Texas, but keep in mind that air conditioning is not so common here. Especially in my really warm room where I'm writing this right now.

Just got done with my one and only final and turned in the ten-pager for that class. That would leave slightly less than four pages on the total countdown to be turned in Thursday. Looks like I have most of Thursday to bum around in Berlin before Darren gets back into town, so I'm thinking a nice bier, snitzel (or maybe a wurst), and a conclusion could make a good Thursday activity before the football matches start later in the day.

Almost outta here! Train leaves tomorrow at 8pm.

So I had to just sit down...

2006-06-10T20:42:00.000+02:00

And try and write about yesterday because it was such an insane day; it's worth remembering.

Where to start? Well, I guess it starts with the Russian invitation company telling me thursday that their advertised process time of five business days is actually six days. And then six days in the afternoon on top of that. You see, with my many adventures with the Russian embassy here in Paris, I know that they are only open every day from 9 to 12 am; this would mean that I would now have to get my invitation and application in at 9am monday morning to be ready by wednesday morning, the day I left. I didn't even wanna think about the price. But wait. My internship presentation was scheduled for 10am Monday morning. So somefrantic maeuvering rescheduled it to 9am (there are 5 people that need to attend) so i could bounce quickly and go to the embassy. Well after pleading with them, they decided to send me the invitation on thursday on not let me know until the Stanford center (where it was being faxed) was closed.

So comes Friday morning. I was due in to work. That couldn't happen. I e-mailed my boss to let him know I would be in late. As soon as the Stanford center opens at nine I'm in the building, and, thank God, someone was able to read through all the cyrillic and kindly put the invitation in my mail box. But I still had work to do. You see, I don't have any documents saying I have health insurance for the summer. The Russian embassy website says I need this. So, I did what I only knew best: I forged the exsting letter to include the summer season. Frantic running around the computer room for half and hour and it was done. Documents in hand, I began my trek. You see, Russians purposefully put their embassies in inconvenient places to discourage visa applicants. The one in Paris is right on the edge of the city at the side of the bois de Bulogne. I amazingly got there in about 30 min from school and waited the standard ten minutes it takes to go through security. I got yelled at by cutting in line to get the special American visa application (with questions like "have you ever worked for any charitable of non-profit organizations"), and took my place again at the back in a line that has never known a short existence. Luckily about one hour was just the time I needed to finish the endless application and get to the front of the line. I almost didn't have my picture pasted to my app (I've made this terrible mistake before) but a very nice person behind me had some extra. Got to the exact same lady that kicked me out for cursing three months ago, and get this: she accepts it right away. Really. Like, looked over it and asked when I needed it ready. Didn't even asked for my forged documents. So I told her I needed it Wednesday, so that would be the price to expedite for three days. Nope, for reasons always unknown, they are closed Monday, so that would be the 48 hour expedition. Oh yeah, I would have been there Monday morning. So I actually get through, they take my passport, and I pay the special "Amerikanski" price for business visas that is of course no where listed on their normal price list.

It was time to finally get to work. Got there about 11:30 am. My boss is nowhere to be seen. I thnk he's in a meeting, but at least I avoid the awkward "hey, so did you get my e-mail?" But once I settle down, a quick check of the email gives me some more good news. My "intership report" which needs to be presented at my internship presentation (remember that thing at 9am Monday?) needs to be printed and assembled into the nice presenation booklet style before the weekend. The offices are not open on the weekend. One quick note on the bosses desk and I'm off again in less than an hour.

Decide to take a quick break to visit my local CROUS and get some nice state-subsidized lunch. But no time for enjoying, this was to go. So I'm eating my sandwich and walking to my destination, which the French generally look down upon. I get to EUSA (the internship people) office and Julie invites me to slow down a bit and finish my lunch outside. This was nice (especially with the amazing weather!) but the French also take too long for lunch. Way too long. I had shit to do, and they were small talking and relishing their dessert. Finally get into the office and figure out what a bitch it is to create these reports. Basically, there is a lot of printing, a lot of punching, and a lot of assembling. Five reports in total. Hour and a half later I'm off with five fresh reports in my hand. Had to make a quick trip to the Stanford center to drop off a report and get back an edited paper (by the way, rarely have i seen so much red ink on a page). Finally back at the office to finish with about two hours left to work. He was there this time, so let the awkward conversations commence. Oh yeah, he also forgot that I was leaving, so he gave me all that good advice and such and we exchanged thank-yous, and we looked over the last spreadsheet that I had done.

Heading home I call up Tim to see if he wants to see the first game of the World Cup at our local cheap pub. Tim is kinda drunk because it's his last day at work and they kindly sent him off with many glasses of wine. So of course he's down, but he was gonna be late. So I head it home and find a pleasant surprise: my host mother was not gonna be home for the night, so she left my dinner ready. This is always a happy time for me as I get to eat at a decent hour. So by seven I was full and ready for some yummy beer and football. Tim's tipsy self gets over this side of town just in time to see the last 15 minutes, but no worries, there are plenty of games to see in the next month.

A little more home time and, even though I'm rediculously tired by this point, there is talk of a champs de mars (garden in front of the Eiffel tower) gathering. Since it is freaking amazing weather, I had to go. So after a daily monop run to get "supplies" I head over to the champ. Btw: even though I get there around 11pm, the sun is still showing its last traces, which makes for an amazing visual spectacle. Takes me about 45 min to find my Stanford peeps, but all the other drunk French kids their (there were tons of them!) are giving me entertainment. Stanford kids end up not sticking around their for long. But Mr. David Pfau, who is always down for everything, decides to stick it around with me. No sooner do I shake his hand after finding him than drunken French girls come to chat and "practice their English." Ok, you know I'm a good little boy, but I encourage Pfau to indulge as much as he can. And they indulge back. They notify us that an American accent in French is actually kinda sexy. This is the first time i've heard this, but I'm willing to entertain it. After a few hours and the lights on the eiffel tower dissapointingly going out (but not before a "grand finale" of sparkling lights!) and it's time to head it out. Young Mr. Pfau grabs the digits and we're good to go. Of course we start walking the wrong direction for the night bus, but we finally find the right way and luck decides to reward us: sandwich grec for only 3.50 euro. Oh yeah. Chow time. Then a lot more walking and we find it. By that time, i was in walking distance and I get back to my apt before 4. The very sad part is my very trusty dPod has decided to poop out on me again and I can't seem to fix it this time, so I had no one to accompany me on my walk home.

Well, what a day. But it seems as if I'm off again. Some French girl that Chris knows knows about a party, and well, you know how that goes. Pray for my papers and their hopeful conclusion sometime soon.

One of the last day's at work...

2006-06-07T10:08:00.000+02:00

and I'm walking in to the kitchen here in the office to get my second cup of black coffee - which I don't really need - and what do I see, but a pristine new espresso machine waiting for its new users. Now everyone in Paris knows that espresso's are for after lunch and American coffee is for the morning. So I dared not try it then, but I was drawn to the also pristine sign next to it, informing the office of the instructions to manipulate the new gadget. Anyone who's ever worked in an office environment knows about these. Mostly it's "Don't forget to wash up!" or "Please put me back in the cupboard." Always cute but annoying that someone felt it necessary to remind you. Well, as there was a perfectly fine-looking espresso machine next to the new one, I investigated a bit and found a pleasant message at the bottom:

"Attention : ne pas brutaliser la machine. C'est la troisième."

Couldn't help but laugh at how the French do cute but polite: "Attention: don't beat (or brutalize translated directly) the machine. This is the third one." Oh cultural differences.

I've decided to lay off the econ for awhile...

2006-06-05T15:25:00.000+02:00

and I've moved on to my human rights class. Somehow I got stuck with the right to die for my expose and the death penalty for my final paper. Just finished with my expose that I'm giving tomorrow and damn, am I depressed. I don't know if I can take much more of this. More than anything, through this class I've learned how depressing life can be sometimes. And Then you have to go to domestic and international courts just to fight for your right to be not as depressed, but still be in a shitty situation. Oh man. Think I might get back to econ after this.

Saturday wasn't the crazy night I thought it might be, because Johnny had to head it in early to catch his flight next morning. Tim was being lame (to his credit, it's his first time flaking these entire two quarters) writing papers and such. I had just had a meeting with my internship tutor and he gave me a go-ahead with that project, so I felt I deserved at least one night out. Not that I hadn't gone out the previous night, but that's beside the point. So Erin and I were feeling a bit agitated in the feet and there was only one cure: dancing. So we set off for this salsa club that I had been introduced to the week before. The only problem was that I knew the quarter where the club was, but not the exact street or the name. Oh yeah. One of my personal pet peeves (sp?) is when people bring me around on pointless journeys where they don't exactly know where they're going. Sat night I did that exact thing to Erin. But luckily she was ready to roll with it, and we settled for a place called Cafe Jade in the same quarter (I looked the next day and it turns out "La Pena" was about a two minute walk from Cafe Jade). Cafe Jade is not the cheapest place in Paris. In fact it's one of those places where trendy Parisians and clueless foreigners congregate to show off their latest purchases from Galeries Lafayette. Luckily though, the cocktails were good - and strong. So we finished up our very tall and pretty drinks and decided that we were not sober enough to return home. The only solution: seek out more dancing or more drinks. Went to one of my fav's this time: the Moose Canadian bar. So stereotypically North American student bar, but you know what, sometimes you need that vibe after the trendy bars. By 4 am we still had not found a place to dance, so we decided to write a rain check and head it home. Again, the stupid birds starting singing the arrival of the sun as soon as I got in. As if I didn't have enough of that the night before.
I wasn't completely unproductive yesterday. Got some good stuff done on human rights. I think the employees at cafe Malongo are prety much sick of me now ordering only one coffee and then plopping myself down for at least two hours with my laptop in front of me. Oh well. It wasn't made any better when my table-mate Zoe the other day spilled almost half a sack of decorative coffee beans on the floor here and then bounced before anyone noticed. Johnny and I were subsequently ridiculed for the act by the lady cleaning up an hour later. Shouldn't have said 'I'm sorry,' now she realy thinks I did it.
I know it's not gonna be fun, but I just gotta get through this week and then I'm home free. about 18 pages to go.

Half-way done with the papers...

2006-06-03T20:01:00.000+02:00

and that means I've just finished writing my 20th page. I hate how I always leave the most difficult papers to write last. The right to death in France anyone?

So Johnny leaves here in about 15 hours. Very sad. First to go and then Zoe will follow shortly after by heading back to Italy for the summer. Side note: must live in Italy at some point and drink coffee, learn the language, and be too fashionable; when in Rome afterall. Last night we tried to give Johnny a nice send off on rue Oberkampf and I think he had a good time. Save the random flying candle wax that one must avoid when hanging out with friends from Berkeley.
Tonight a proper Parisian dinner will send Johnny off to New York and his very chic job working for Macy's. Hopefully a frisbee or two can be tossed on the lawn in front of the hotel Invalides so as not to make the night too hectic. But then again, last night was not supposed to be late either, but getting home at 4am, I discovered otherwise.

The weather still hasn't decided what season it is, but it is opting for a nice late-spring for today and tomorrow. I will try to catch the most amount of rays I can while studying the effects of EU/US economic relations tomorrow.

The friendlies are winding down and the cup is almost upon us. Get ready Berlin. I'm coming.

Blinding me from this work is the thought of finally getting back to Moscow. I simply can't wait. But then again, I can. The job front has mysteriously stalled, but the rent will always be due. My fingers could use a little relief from the constant crossing, but they must remain, cause I need a bit of luck at this point.

Speaking of looking forward, beyond Moscow, everyone I have talked to has just had a great feeling in their gut about senior year. Something tells me it will be truly epic. EBF isn't the most amazing housing, but for the lower 1400s in the draw, I really can't complain.

Wrapping up in full swing...

2006-06-01T22:43:00.000+02:00

and in no time we'll be outta here. On any other Thursday I'd be out enjoying a drink with friends, but tomorrow I'm draggin my tired ass back to the office because I had to miss my internship on Monday. I missed for what I thought would be a great reason - a class trip to Strasbourg to visit a session of the European Court of Human Rights. Not that I'm ungrateful (I kinda am), but the trip sucked. The van ride over was cramped, the food was terrible, and we arrived in town about too late to do anything but sleep. The next morning my stomach decided it didn't like the food from the previous night either and decided to eject it accordingly. Our scedule prevented us from doing any sight seeing of the relatively small town. The hearing we were gonna see was cancelled. We got some talks from European lawyers which were interesting, but seemed a little hasty. Then the wind and rain started. Get this: Didn't get above 50 degrees that entire day in Strasbourg. brr. Then van ride back was equally cramped and we stopped at the exact same cafeteria on the way back. Not amused. Then the expert scheduling returned to drop us off in Paris at 11:30pm when me and three others had interships the next morning at nine. Of course we were all busy with papers and finals, so we weren't in the partying mood in the first place, but the great planning really got us moving in that nerdy dullness only Stanford students can truly pull off come finals time. Speaking of which, even though it's late, I have my own papers to work on. I'm trying to get this econ paper out of the way. But can a ten pager in French really just be put out of the way? Not really. Gonna do the best I can for the night.

The sun has returned!

2006-05-28T17:15:00.000+02:00

Today Parisians old and young welcomed back the return of the soleil that has so menacingly been absent for at least the past two weeks. It's not pariticularly hot. And the clouds don't always let him come through. But it's enough to send this melatonin-deprived Mexican to the tiny outside section of his favorite Parisian cafe: Malongo. I can barely see my computer screen, but it's worth it. Gives me more time to kick back, sip on my espresso, and soak in the occasional rays.
Yesterday the weather wasn't cooperating nearly as much, but Johnny, Devin, and I decided to head to the northern outskirts of the city to see if we could grab some cheap scalped tickets to the France v. Mexico friendly. A quick chat with the not-so-friendly scalpers here in Paris revealed that the tickets weren't exactly in our price range. So we decided to accompany a group of about 50 similarly financially-challenged fans at a bar outside the Stade de France to watch the game on a big screen. The game winner was scored by France in the one minute of stoppage time after the first half and the rest was a defensive clinic on how to hold on to a tight lead. Naturally me and all the other Mexicans who hopped the continent just to see the game (yeah right!) were a little bit dissapointed, but those Frenchies really know how to guard that goal. Luckily most of the French fans were very respectful and I had a chance to chat with a few after the game as I was walking around town with one of the loudest shirts ever created: the Mexican jersey from the 2002 world cup. We all agreed that it was a typical friendly and the real action would come world cup time. The only sore-winners seemed to be this group of drunken revelers who invaded our bar and seemed to have very non-French accents. Trying to be as least racist here as possible, but those trying to be real French hooligans should really have a proper grasp on the language before they start trying to pick fights. Even the French guys we were sitting with (obviously recent immigrants themselves but much more respectful) agreed that those kids were simply "culeros," and joined in our chants appropriately.
After the game I joined various groups of Irish, Mexican, Venezuelan, and American kids for bar-hopping around the city. The birds greeted me and the sun as I came home this morning to my sweet bed which seems to only get more comfortable the later I return home.
Mucho working today except for this quick entry. But I thought I should record the memories before they leave. World Cup coming soooooon!

I'm sitting here...

2006-05-26T16:31:00.000+02:00

at my favorite cafe - Malongo - to recharge the system and try to get some crucial work done. Yesterday not much of anything productive was done, so I have the overwhelming feeling of guilt that usually accompanies the ending of each quarter. Except that this feeling has a particualarly French tinge to it. What does that mean? Well, it's kinda of like living in Paris in general: you really have to plan your time out well because you simply can't get many things accomplished in the day. At least one can't accomplish "errands" like you would in the US. Like today, I am on my third task right now (sitting down to work) which makes this one of the most productive days I 've had in awhile, as I've already met with my internship tutor, coveted the polo shirts in Galleries Lafayettes (doesn't really count as an errand), and recovered the my lost bag at the centre de objets trouves. Now simply consider that today is nearly a month since I put in my lost item file and that this was my third trip to the centre, and you get an idea of what a productive day this has been. Now, this is not to say that Paris is anything like Moscow. Not at all. I would never plan on doing more than one thing per day in Moscow. I would simply be fooling myself.
Well there's nothing else to really report today besides my unusual efficiancy. Except that yesterday Johnny introduced me to the wonderful world of Xiu Xiu: an indy band from the bay area that was playing an excellent venue here on Oberkampf. Today not as much fun, but still keeping the mind productive. This is a trend that should hopefully continue throughout the weekend. Tim and I did the math yesterday: About 30 more pages to write in French before the end of the quarter. Better get going.

Thought I'd take this time...

2006-05-24T23:49:00.000+02:00

to put up a couple a stolen pic or two from Barcelona. Gee, how I miss that place. So care free. No homework. No teachers or internships. No matter if the sun comes up while you're out at night.
This one is from the nice stranger that layed down on the floor for us just to get a great shot. What a trooper.
So the cat is not being a huge nuisance like she was when she first got here. Mostly because I've indefinitely kicked her out of my room. Which is a shame cause she's really cool and playful. If she were a dog I'd be all about it. But to no avail, I must kick her out for the sake of my poor sinuses.
It took me all day Tuesday to recover from the wreck that I was after seeing the sun come up just to see my boys lose in overtime. Who needs class anyway?
This one is from the beach. Even though it was absolutely freezing, it was nice. That is going to be the only beach I see for a full year! This cannot be. I miss those gulf coast beaches with their beer cans, cigarette butts, and hot-tub-temperature waters.
There is a chance of me actually getting paid (poorly) this summer in Moscow. Of course because it is Russia it would be "sous la table" as we say here in France. But I'm totally cool with that. As long as I get something. Toes and fingers crossed for this opportunity to work out.
This last weekend I was hanging out at the Fondation des Etats-Unis (where all the kids in dorms live) and I was getting a little lonely for independant life. Not that I'm not grateful for Mme Contesso's cooking (which has been on time the last two days!), but I'm much too independant of a person to have to tell people when I'm gonna be home for dinner. Plus the awkward small talk as I'm still asleep in the morning - is it really necessary? Just a little bitching before the apartment life begins this summer - thand God. Anyway, there was this big concert of awful French hip-hop that all the students were at on Saturday night. It was such a college event - big stage in front of an ivy-clad building playing to inebriated college students who really don't care more than they finally have a place to communaly drink on a Saturday night. I was very glad to crash the party. I was also just a bit jealous at all the international friends my friend Chris has made. As I made fun of all the people who only frequent expat hangouts and chill with Stanford kids in Moscow, I have done little but that very thing here in Paris. It's too easy. Especially when anyone who hears an accent switches immidiately into their flawless English they learned in school. Although it's difficult sometimes, I really enjoy when my maitre de stage will refuse to speak English to me; even in confusing business French. Little time left to remedy the situation, but I'll try as hard as I can.
After writing the most diary-like entry in awhile, I think it's time to quit procrastinating and get back to my stupid internship report due at the end of the quarter. 30 pages, twenty hours a week, 5 units, and no compensation. Vive la France!
Alright, maybe one more pic.

So it is now...

2006-05-23T05:18:00.000+02:00

5:15 AM and I feel so desperately cheated. If nothing else, than by this "NBA Radio Pass" I bought that is supposed to be good through the rest of the playoffs. I'm now officially boycotting the NBA.

So I'm trying...

2006-05-22T21:42:00.000+02:00

as hard as I can to really be nice and let Mme Contesso slide in her dinner duties like she has for the past two weeks; It's 9:40 and I just got done with dinner. But it's ok, because there was a tragedy in the family and I am a very caring and understanding individual. But now her mom has come to stay for an indefinite amount of time. It's not her at all. I actually find her very polite and entertaining with her stories and impeccable upper-class French accent. She tells me about that one terrible time she had in Moscow, where she was forced to bring biscuits and champagne from France because "there's nothing to eat in Russia!" She finally got the date when she last visited to somewhere around two years before the wall fell. Excellent. No, the problem is her cat. Now, there was already a cat I had to deal with - Martini. But Martini just kinda chilled generally and crashed my bed every week or so. Now Felicia has come into my room at least seven times in the last 36 hours as she has to make her presence known. She likes to play. She likes to rub against my clothes. She NEVER sleeps. Oh yeah, and I'm also allergic to the little hairball - even with constant Claritin in my system. Here's her worst offense: so not only does she first jump on my dresser and then my bed to join me at 4am this morning, but she also has a little bell just as a courtesy in case I wasn't awake before that damn ringing. I finally take some action and shove her off my bed and in the process, my laptop sitting beside me suddenly becomes a grand diving board for the furball and tumble goes the computer. Well, as you can tell it's alright, but I don't know how much longer I can take this beast. So I don't know whether to kill the feline or break down from hunger when it's nine pm and I haven't been fed. Maybe I just need a nice compassionate semi-senial old lady to feed me and entertain me with stories. That would be much better than doing all the work that's about to kick my ass. But for now I can only dream.

Game seven. Go Spurs.