Priviet.

I've had an excellent time hanging out with the Russian. He's by far one of the sweetest and courteous boys I've ever been with. I appreciate manners more than most. Always opens the door, refuses to let me pay (sometimes I'll sneak it past him), puts his coat on me when I'm holunde (forgive my terrible Russian spelling) and is not afraid to let it be known I'm his girl.

It gets on my nerves when people ask us how we communicate with each other. "I don't know, we just do," I reply. There is no straight answer. Sure, we don't have in-depth conversations about religion and politics and childhood memories. These are drawbacks but I'd like to look at it positively, at least I don't have to listen to his bullshit. In retrospect, the thing that has usually bothered me the most about past relationships is the crap that comes out of a boy's mouth. No complaining, no ex-girlfriends, no judgemental crap directed at me that I should fix. I haven't had to hear about anything I don't want to hear about. Here, nothing's wrong. It's ok? It's ok. Good. Hen hao. Sometimes it's a game of charades in trying to communicate, other times there is no need. Sometimes I forget there is a language barrier, because I'm really comfortable around this person and we laugh, a lot.

I feel sort of bad as I've been MIA from my girl friends lately, but they understand. I've spent the past two months almost literally up their asses anyway. I'm glad they're cool about it and not super needy. I haven't been in "honeymoon stage" or whatever you'd call it in quite a long time. This is the perfect time for it too, it's getting cold and I have a tall, sweet Russian keeping me warm. Life is good.

I got sick yesterday, that sucked. I bought some cheese from the supermarket, excited for the fix, but realized it was a bad idea as my body is not used to dairy. It totally rejected it, I had fever and chills among other things and did not leave my apartment. I managed to sleep off the harsh part but I'm still feeling a bit weak. Misha invited me to go to some place tonight, I'll probably just sip liu cha and hang out for a bit before returning home and sleeping more.

I got my first package in the mail today. Thanks, Mom! Some Lancome mascara. For you ladies reading this, you know how important mascara can be, especially when you're still sound asleep while walking and want to at least appear awake. That was a nice thing to find downstairs tonight, as my girl friends and I were heading off to the vegan spot for dinner.

Speaking of vegan, I will be trying to construct something for Thanksgiving this Thursday. Nothing over the top...I'm thinking maybe hummus or something. We'll see. I think I'm bringing my Russian too (P.S. He cooks!!!). Oh, a budding relationship. Cue in the vomit noises.

Miss you all. Much love,
Misu

This weekend was an interesting one. It was the first one spent entirely in Baoding in the past several weeks, since I have frequented Beijing lately (where I'm also going tomorrow evening to get a Shanghai ticket). 

Friday night was chill. Kim and Young Suk threw a joint party in their rooms by opening both of their doors since they live across from each other. It was a nice potluck. A lot of people showed up, primarily other teachers. Jack made pumpkin pie, someone made sushi, Alex's banana bread was awesome, Kim brought a cake from the Honey Pool, etc. I didn't cook anything like I should have. We had gone to the DVD store earlier that day and so I was eager to watch a flick instead of bake. I think it was okay though, as both Kim and Young Suk's kitchens were loaded with food. Everyone was happy. I decided to kill my last bottle of fake PBR along with Dan's homemade wine. Jomo brought a friend who prefaced every question with "If you don't mind me asking..." At first it was endearing, but then I finally asked him why he always said that, even if he was asking about something simple like when I arrived in China. Soon the crowd dwindled and I almost fell asleep cuddling with Slava. I went upstairs and crashed. A nice, chill Friday night.

Saturday was pretty intense. I had a blast. That evening, Crava's band was playing at some venue in town. We quickly discovered the piss-flavored Tsingtaos were very much fake, so we dashed over to Chaliba to grab some legit ones to stuff in our pockets. The show was very much entertaining. Three bands performed. It was interesting to see how things go at a rock show in a small Chinese town versus the shows I went to at home. Smoky and loud. Encore chants. Tall guys in the front to block my view, yes, even in China. I liked the first band Crava played with, I don't think it was his band persay. I'm not sure, I'll have to ask. Anyway, the guitar parts were pretty sugar sweet. 

After the show we all walked back to Chali; Alex, Yusi, Megan, Kim, Emily and myself. I was eager to go balls out at this point. I persuaded Kim to take a tequila shot with me so Kimshka would emerge. If you don't know Kimshka, you're really missing out. I really wanted to go to Deep Club and dance. Alex, Yusi, Megan and Emily all decided to go home while Kim and I grabbed a taxi for Deep Club. Slava had called both of our phones twice wanting us to "move our butts quicker." Oh, Russians.

We got to Deep Club and there were Russians all over this place. It was great. Slava was drunk and hoarse, drooling over one of the dancers who looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. I said hello to Ulia and Jane, then moved up to the dance floor. Thank God Kim was with me, because as soon as I put my foot on it, I got bombarded by four or five sweaty Chinese dudes trying to bump and grind on me. It was insane. She grabbed me out of the way and we bailed from that corner. Then I spotted this Russian guy I've had a crush on, so so cute. I jabbed Kim in the ribs, "There he is!" and we both instantly got excited, as she's known about my crush as long as I have.

We found Slava again. He said, "I asked Misha if he would dance with you and he said 'my pleasure.'" I instantly retorted a Yeah Right but then decided oh what the hell, I'm a hawk stalking my prey, must go in for the kill. I headed straight for the dance floor and stepped right in front of him and we danced. Emily always kids me about my world famous "Stupid Dance." Well, I think Misha might have invented it. It was retarded and awesome.

Afterward, I walked over to the Russian corner and tapped Misha on the shoulder. "Deeminyanarivishda!" (phonetically spelled; my Russian sucks) At first he didn't understand me. Then Slava stepped in to help out. It means "I like you" or some shit. Anyway, I guess he said I like you back. Pretty soon people started leaving. Kim suggested the four of us share a cab back to Heda. We walked into the lobby of the club to get our coats when I spotted the shiny white piano in the middle. "A piano!" I exclaimed, like it was a unicorn or something. Entranced, I ran up to it with the intention of playing it, only my stupid drunk ass didn't see the moat surrounding it. Yes, a narrow moat with goldfish swimming in it. I stomped my left foot right into the water. I was wearing my black corduroy boots and instantly it filled up with a puddle. Kim and Slava started wailing with laughter. "What the fuck! I'm such an idiot!" I yelled, also keeling over with giggles. Taking the boot off and emptying it out seemed like too much trouble so I just "walked it off," soon forgetting about it. It was a cold night but I didn't really notice.

Kim sat in the front while Slava, Misha and I rode in the back. We were on a quest for some Blue Stars so we could just go chill in Slava's room, since it was past curfew for Kim and me. This cab ride was part one of a two-part chaotic adventure, the Quest for Blue Star. The first place we stopped at had them but were too expensive. I was willing to shuck out a couple of extra kuai but Slava wasn't having it. He's really particular about things. I tried to explain to him that the difference will just be added to taxi fare while we look for another spot. Anyway, we got another taxi, this time Misha sat in the front. The driver was a young girl. I don't know where the hell she took us, but we wound up on some alley that was too narrow for her to drive down. She had to put the car in reverse to get out of it, but then she proceeded to stall out numerous times. I begged her to let me do it, as I love driving stick shifts, but looking in retrospect it's probably a good thing I didn't. Anyway, after numerous barrels of laughter, we decided to bail. Little did I know, the alley we were in was right by our school. 

Walking back to Heda was fun. Misha and I had a chance to "talk." He doesn't speak English and I don't speak Russian. So we met halfway and spoke Chinese...or at least, attempted to. He took a bottle of Blue Star and cracked it open on the concrete. "Wow, how did you do that?!" I exclaimed. "He's Russian," Slava said. 

We got to Slava's room and hung out, listening to *drumroll please* Coldplay. Kim noticed Misha's toe was bleeding. I jumped up and played nurse, propped his leg up on a chair and dabbed it with tissue. He kind of looks like a cute vampire. His pronunciation of vampire is pretty hilarious... he says "vompeer." His birthday was a couple of days ago, so he told Slava that we were all invited to his party the following night. He just turned 29 (which is a definite plus). We exchanged numbers.

Last night, Kim and I brought Emily along with us to Misha's party. Slava stayed home to study. At first it was looking like another Rabbit Hole Night. A Rabbit Hole Night is when you spend a big portion of time trying to find a place that may or may not exist. It was coined by Emily the first weekend I was in China, in Beijing specifically. We had hung out with Richard in Wadoukou at a pretty decent spot, until Richard told us we should all go to White Rabbit. The change of scenery was a letdown. Then, on Halloween weekend, once again Richard told us to go to Yen in Beijing, which we never found. So Emily calls Richard "The White Rabbit" from Alice in Wonderland (either that or Sketchballs). Anyway, last night the name of the destination was unknown. Misha had two people call my phone to see if I was coming. Once we got a taxi, I handed my mobile to the driver so Paul could tell him where to go. 


We wound up in some spot that looked a little shady. I called Misha's phone, this time Ulia picked up and told us to wait, that Misha would be right down to meet us. We stood there for several minutes with no sign of Misha anywhere. I was starting to get cold and frustrated. Kim had to piss. And Emily kept saying, This is another Rabbit Hole Night. I didn't want to agree, as I was very excited to see the tall, cute Russian. Ulia called my phone again asking where we were. "I don't really know," I said. Finally the confusion dwindled, we were just a block away. 

We walked upstairs in this restaurant, into a room full of Russians. It was a little intimidating at first. Culturally, Russians are a bit standoffish at first. They don't make eye contact and they don't smile. In walks three loud American girls, it was enough to make me a little self-conscious. Once again, thank God Kim was there. She really is an amazing friend. Her congenial self radiated the room and eased any tension that might have been present. Misha came and sat beside me, then put his hand on my knee. 

All stereotypes aside, Russians really do love vodka. Holy crap. They were pouring shot after shot. Kim, Emily and I looked at each other pathetically. Shooting vodka's not the same as whiskey or tequila. I'd rather use vodka to mix with soda water, but not straight! But Misha kept pouring them...and it was his birthday so, yeah. Ugh. Emily got drunk fast. I held my own. Paul reached over the table and kissed Kim, it was pretty sweet. Misha's roommate Volva was very sweet, and very drunk. He told me that he was very glad I was there and that it is really wonderful to hear someone speak English. I told him if he can teach me some Russian I'll teach him some English. Ulia told me Misha really liked me. "Good, he should," I said. "I think that's a good idea." I asked her what he had said and she said nothing but she just knows. She also said he now wants to attend Chinese class (the class he always skips, I attend twice a week) and study really hard, with me. Deal.

Emily and Kim left early for Chalijiuba while I stayed behind with Misha. The whole thing wound up costing like 320 kuai, which is nothing in Beijing but more spendy in Baoding. I reached for my wallet to contribute, but he immediately shooed me away. "It's your birthday," I said, and reached for my wallet again. It struck me as odd that the birthday boy pays the tab. "It's a Russian tradition," a guy named Anton said. Okay. 

Misha and I grabbed a taxi to meet up with Kim and Emily. But, Emily had fallen down at the bar and twisted her ankle. So when we got there, no one was around. I asked Wong Chen where everyone was, and he said the hospital. Oh dear God. Misha and I decided to play foosball, and then they came back; Emily, Kim, Frankie and Charlie. Emily was holding her x-ray. Nothing was broken. I joked that they should hang the x-ray on the wall. 

They left, and I grew tired. Misha was cool with leaving so we headed back to Heda.

So, yeah, it was a great weekend, a little on the crazy side. I like this Russian dude. We don't have much to talk about but part of the fun is learning. He's very affectionate and extremely handsome. Dasha's going to give me a Russian lesson this evening. I think it will be fun to try.  

I love China but I hate the music around these parts. It's so. damn. happy. Fake sugar sweet, like aspartame. Nauseates me at times. I wonder how no one gets sick of it? Shops, taxis, the ring-back on phones, you name it and that sound is there, the sound of "We wish you happy every day."

That is the rule of thumb here, to be happy every day, even if you're not. I don't quite understand it. I think happiness can only be a genuine emotion, one that does not fake itself, one that cannot be forced. What if I don't want to have a happy every day? What if I want to feel like shit and curse everything in sight because, well, it makes me happy?

Other than feeling a cold coming on, I don't feel like that today. But sometimes I'll get waves of it, I'll clench my teeth and think not so happy thoughts. The folks who stare, the oh-so-slow people in my way (I call them Chinese turtles), the buses shitting exhaust in the air, the air itself. The happy music. Fortunately I don't act on these kinds of thoughts, I keep them inside except for an occasional mutter that no one around me understands. There is a comfortable privacy in speaking a foreign language. Sometimes I like to hide behind it.

I was riding home today from a task and a female announcer was on the radio. I think she was telling a story. Her voice was so grating I found myself imagining I could reach inside the speaker and grab her face, squeeze it shut. I tried not to let it bug me and instead concentrate on what she was saying. I could maybe pick up a word here and there but nothing substantial for me to understand. And she kept making the pre-cough noise, the throat drag. I found myself wondering, How is the Chinese language pleasing to the ear? Why can't it be like French or Italian? And why, WHY must it be so damn difficult to learn? Wai shen ma, wai shen ma?

There's another radio announcer here who's pretty popular, a man whose voice sounds like Satan if I knew what Satan sounded like. He's always growling and slurring, he sounds so angry. There's been a few early mornings here and there when I had to take a cab home, and the driver would have Satan blasting on the radio. If I didn't have my headphones I was in big trouble, because Satan and my hangovers would not get along. I found myself wondering, Why are you listening? What is he saying? And why doesn't his voice bother you? It doesn't sound happy any day...or night.

I find myself craving Beijing more frequently for the mixed culture. We're going tomorrow to see DJ Shadow. I don't really get much of my punk/indie fix here but that's fine. I like electronic as long as it's good. None of this Madonna remixy crap, or friggin' Avril Lavigne. Ohmylanta, they love her here, it's sickening and insane. I sat in on one of Kim's classes and a student asked me if I liked Avril. Rather than responding with a  "Hell no!" I gently suggested she check out some other artists. I wrote down Jeff Buckley and Bjork. Later I ran into her on the street, she ran up to me with an excited smile on her face. "I love Jeff Buckley!" she gushed. "He's so cute!" I wholeheartedly agreed, then broke the news that he was dead.

I started my sound project over the weekend when we went to the Great Wall. I won't disclose too much, other than I'm really happy with the quality. Thank you, Levus, for letting me borrow your microphone. It really picked up some good stuff. I will be posting my Great Wall pics shortly, once I have them all gathered and put together.

Thank you for reading. I wish you happy, every day.

xo
misu

p.s. Dear family and friends, I can't get a stable connection to call anyone at this point. Lamesauce. But hopefully that will change in the near future. P.S.S. My phone can send texts to the States, apparently.