Xanadu, or as I like to call him, "Kitten"

So true to form, I actually did something a lot of people just talk about doing. I found a stray kitten on the street and brought it home. It LOVES me! I gave him milk and when he had finished he instantly crawled onto my lap and started purring so loudly I made Trent listen on the phone (which is stupid and annoying I know). He is really calm and sweet and just wants to sleep on me and purr. The first night I gave him a bath because I wanted to sleep with him in my bed and he was filfthy. He was not happy about said bath, but he curled up next to me none-the-less.

Also, his meower is broken and he cannot meow. So sometimes he looks up at me and opens his little mouth, but nothing comes out. I love him. Because I am leaving town soon, I have shirked all responsibility and I pretty much spend the day reading with him on my lap (and then I go shopping). Anywho... he's pretty great.

Yorkshire pudding

So my roommate left, which I'm more than okay with. And i still made her pay the full amount she was supposed to, and I'm okay with that too. (for those keeping track i'm spending about 200 US dollars on a giant one bedroom apartment for6 weeks) anyways, we decided to have a dinner party last night. Flor (austrian) made delicious pasta stuff, Joanna (Westpoint) brought cake and vodka (bless her soul), and James (english) made Yorkshire pudding. Up until this point in my life I have only hold stories of the bland english food, and its all together nothingness, but he seemed confident Yorkshire pudding was delicious so we went with it. First of all, he didn't follow directions the first time, so I had to help him make it AgAIN... boys are dumb.

When it was finished it didn't look half bad, and I was willing to put it in my mouth. It tasted.... fine. Apparently it tasted very similar to how it was supposed to, like breadish french toastish pancake-ish stuff. Flor, Joanna, and I all agreed he had clearly forgotten the sugar, but he claimed it was "savory" not sweet. Although I always thought savory meant rich in flavor, which this was not. In an act reminiscent of the Boston tea Party, i quickly brought forth my strawberry jam. when jam was added, Yorkshire pudding was declared delicious by the non-brits, and James declared he hated us all and would never cook again. I think the jam was probably worth it.

pics soon. promise.

Health Insurance smealth insurance

Right now is the first time I have ventured out of my home in 2 days. I woke up at 5 am yesterday morning to experience one of the most painful vomitting experiences of my life. I slept through Wednesday almost entirely, only waking up a few tmes to notice what extreme pain and discomfort i was in and wonder at what point a person is supposed to go to the hospital. i could barely even sit up on my own. but when i woke up at 9 at night i was a little bit "better" and even managed to eat crackers and juice, so i took it as a good sig and just went back to bed. i slept through most of today as well, and at 4 in the afternoon woke up feeling almost functional and decided to try to move. so i came down to this internet cafe. i'll admit i'm a little dizzy and the stuck shift keys were taking too much effort so i completely gave up on them, but i hope ill be doing alright by tomorrow.

when i walked into the center on monday, everyone was wearing face masks. they told me that two of the kids had gone to the hospital, and half of them had the flu, but no one looked that bad, and when i went on tuesday lots of people weren't wearing masks, and everyone said i didn't need one. chances are, i got it. oh well.

it's an odd, shitty, thing being sick alone. my roommate was kind enough to buy crackers and juice, but wasn't exactly there for me, nor did i want her to be. but we do, when we are at our most pathetic and ugly, really need other people. i wanted someone to sit on the bed til i fell asleep, someone to help me to the bathroom, somone to go buy me a personal dvd player and dvds (extravegant? nah), even someone to talk to. i gave myself headaches texting people when i was awake because i so badly wanted to be acknowledged in my misery. i think its survival instincts. like if none of the other cave people are around and know you are miserable, they won't notice when you die.

pictures

This is simply a post to let yu know im trying to add pictures but im in a country with wanky internet and no personal computer. so just keep checkin!

When in Ukraine experience

Currently I'm on an upperbunk in the platscart wagon of a train headed back to Odessa from a weekend in ivano franckof, surrounded by snoring Ukrainians. Down the aisle from me I can see my 6'7" Austrian friend Flor's feet hanging off the end of his bunk. We passed the 16 hour train ride the only way I know how, by drinking heavily. A few beers and vodka shots into the ride, people around us started to really open up and we began to practice our Russian. At one point a man brought to us a plastic bottle of clear liquid. Real ukranian moonshine. Of course I stepped up to the plate! Truly a once in a lifetime experience and I wasn't going to pass it up for something silly like fear of going blind. I would be lying if I said it wasn't that bad. It really really was that bad. Any who. I climbed up into my bed at 9:30.

The weekend overall was a great success, the apex of which was summitting the highest mountain in the Ukraine. There is something so empowering about climbing a mountain. It's like you accomplished the best thing you could. You can't go any higher. We even felt extra badass because wanting to go quickly we chose the "steep" route, and they weren't kidding. Numerous Ukrainians who were taking this route down as recommended by the woman at the park entrance (jokingly?) encouraged us to turn back. The carpathian mountains around us were breath taking and I really needed this sort of back to beauty release.

Another highlight of that day was our superb negotiating skills with our taxi driver. He drove us two hours out there (would have been a 4 hour bus ride had we made a bus in the morning). We then coerced him into driving us 6 km into the park on some really treacherous roads. We agreed that he would meet us in the same spot at 8 and gave him half his money (the equivilant of 50 usd). He also gave us his "documents" as collateral. It was an amazing soviet Id from 1980. We could tell he was a genuinely helpful guy who was also making a ton of money off us. We really liked him. We even took up his offer to take us to a nearby town with some of the popular sights of the area including a museum of intricate decorated Easter eggs the next day. When he rolled in in the morning he had his 12 year old son with him and he spent the day as our personal tour guide. He even gave me his phone number in case I ever came back. Good guy.

I also found out the answer to "what's the worst that can happen?" when pointing to something random in a menu you can't understand. In this region people really spoke ukranian which is pretty different from Russian and made many things difficult on our trip, menus definately being the most notable. I couldn't decide and thought fuck it, I'll take whatever and picked something cheap, sola. The waitress repeated my order without any hint of amusement so what I ordered couldn't have been that bad. Wrong. What was brought to me was a plate full of thin white slices of something that at first glance resembled fish and whole cloves of garlic. Ugh. But it didn't smell like fish, and it didn't really feel like meat. It was greasy and hard to pull apart. It didn't really taste like anything at all, but reminded me of eating butter a little. Cheese? Nope. The Austrian figured it out upon tasting. "I tink tis is fet". Oh my god! Yup! Fat! Turns out the guide book actually said that sola was something only available and beloved in Ukraine so I said your welcome to everyone for bringing this cultural experience to them, but a rolly polly puppy enjoyed the meal later.

-- Post From My iPod

ya iz amerike

I'm in an internet cafe actually trying to finish up an assignment I didn't do for one of my courses. Ooops. Anyways, I just want to make a note that there is a vending machine here that must be described.

Top two rows: Candy bars.
Third row: Chips including ham flavored and chicken flavored (okay, i bought the chicken ones once thinking it was baked potato, but then really looked at the picture. They were pretty good.
Fourth Row: Soda (but NOT any diet soda... they don't even have diet soda at mcdonalds!)
Bottom Row: 20 oz Cans of beer.

ummmm. Awesome.

Also, I am pleased to report that according to the Austrian, Brit, and Portugeuse dude I hung out with last night. I am the most cliche american they have ever met. I am loud and crazy and get too drunk. I think they like me.

The U.S. Needs more stray cats

So I've been living in Odessa, Ukraine for almost a week now. I'm in an apartment I'm subleasing with another girl. Luckily I got here first and had no qualms about taking the bedroom and leaving her the pull out couch. I even stuck pictures on the walls before she got here, making a switch almost impossible. Turns out she is book smart not street smart, which is my nice way of saying she is totally boring and stupid. She is also from Slovakia, which sounds like a made up country to me. Anyways, I've had worse roommates... Which is probably why I like living alone so much. That, and loud sex.

I'm volunteering at an org called this child here (www.thischildhere.org). Basically there is a home of 20 kids, mostly some end of teenaged, who came there off the street. Many used to use crude street drugs. I asked what the rules of the house were and it was basically "go to school, participate, don't do glue.". It's marvelously disorganized... esp the volunteer role. So far ive accompanied kids places and sat around pretending I could understand them and making faces when I can tell they are talking about me. Needless to say, my Russian has gone to shit, but I'm actually gonna begin taking some lessons. So far the most bonding I've done is through smoking cigarettes... And I smoke way more to strengthen this bond. Who'd have thought I'd be sitting here with a sore throat due to peer pressure from 14 year olds? But I really like them and know in time it'll get easier.

Yesterday was the birthday of the city and I celebrated by heading downtown for the party... Which was mostly marked by the sale of silly wigs and head bands...? But I got a little drink on and danced with some wasted people to street musicians, so all in all, not a bad solo travel night. Also can I just say, god bless a place where the woman who sells you a beer from a street kiosk (for 75 cents) automatically opens it for you. Gotta love soviet mentalities. Life is hard, might as well get drunk.



-- Post From My iPod