Currently Reading How We Are Hungry By Dave Eggers see related

on why i'm not angsty

so, for easter this year i thought i'd be a good catholic and call the harris family. i talk to them/ see them so very rarely, and it's usually awkward anyway, but i figured what the hell, i'm all the way over here in russia, i'll phone, say hi, exchange pleasantries, etc. the conversations went as follows:

to my nana:

me: hi, nana! it's cati! happy easter!

nana: oh, hi cati. how are things in texas?

to bio-dad (or, as i like to call him, the other 23 chromosomes):

me: yeah, i'd love to get an email or two from you. you have my email, right? it's real simple- my name at OU.edu...

dad: um... you spell your name w/ a K, right?

...both of these little stories are priceless nuggets of hilarity for me. i promptly called my mom and told her what happened. her ex-husband never fails to offer bonding moments for the two of us- when i was nine i learned what a "troglodyte" was from mom in the context of "your father is a troglodyte"- we cackled on the phone about how absolutely clueless the harris family is when it comes to my existence, and easter was a success.

but mom told my gramma up in canada about this (my step-dad's mom, although the 'step' part got dropped so long ago it's not even worth mentioning half the time), and grams' repsonse was not a jovial as ours had been- "poor cati! that's awful, her own father can't remember how to spell her name!" and my honey's response was the same- "that is just terrible. she's over in RUSSIA, she could get blown up any day (that's my honey, she thinks that the world outside of the US is one big landmine), and her own grandmother isn't worrying about her???" etc. etc.

so now my big question is, why did it never occur to me to be hung up about that?

i know plenty of divorce kids w/ all sorts of daddy issues. i've got em too, of course, but for some reason the daddy issues never really bother me enough to be hung up on em all the time. i just kind of laugh- and it's real laughter, not that kind where people are laughing on the outside and crying on the inside (well, that's the gayest thing i've said all day)- when my dad can't remember how to spell my name or my grandmother doesn't know that i'm living abroad. or when my dad calls me five days after my birthday, or constantly mixes up my name and his other daughter's name. or when his mom asks "who?" when i tell her it's cati on the phone. there's no point in getting all boo-hoo about it, i mean at the end of the day i can't be bothered to care that much. it's just like, well, the less attention they pay to me, the less attention i'm obliged to pay to them. fewer presents to buy at christmas time, or something like that.

that and i have the emotional turnover time of a gnat. i think andrew told me that once, years ago, and i beleive it.

anyway, that's about it. i'm not angsty or bothered. i wish everyone could be as calloused to a lack of paternal attention as i was, then we probably wouldn't have emo music. and i really, really, really hate emo.

in other news, i'm going to estonia in a couple of days. and dad got transferred back to moscow. woohoo! free place to live in m-town when i finish university. i am STOKED.

it's a lovely day. i'm going to stroll around petersburg.

haven't quoted anything/one in a minute. here's a few:

me: what is wrong w/ me?   anya: ÷òî-òî ñåð¸çíî.   (she says she doesn't speak english, yeah right.)

"T.I.R."   (This Is Russia. applicable in any situation that makes your head hurt.)

"what??!? i'd had a whole bottle of red wine. it's not like it was really my fault." -mom

ÑÒÛÄÍÎ!!!! 

Currently Listening Born in the U.S.A. By Bruce Springsteen the BOSS keeps me company see related

complaining to the internet

not much to report. the weather's better, i'm making friends, i think i can actually speak the language now, so that's good.

but i'm ready to go home. i got on this "i'm gonna find a job over here and stay over here for a year" kick about three weeks back, but with each day i find myself missing the US (who'da thought?). and i'm BORED- there's only so much beer drinking that can be done in parks before one actually wants to do something productive. like work. somewhere. i got a job teaching english, and i'm looking into a couple more, but at the end of the day i want my car, my friends, and taco bell. (mmm, cheesy fiesta potatoes at four in the morning....)

and i'm BROKE. like, all the time. this university charges a buttload for rent, and mom only sends me just enough for rent and that's about it. (it's probably part of a greater plan for her to keep me from excessive drinking, which is smart of her, but damn, i'm foiled.) i've been waiting on some cash from mims for a minute now, it's getting down to crunch time 'cause i hate sitting at home doing nothing. pretty soon i won't even be able to go to work because i can't buy metro tickets. oh yeah, and they haven't paid me yet at work.

but no worries. i really could live for free here, if i didn't do ANYTHING, ever, at all. and i'd still probably have a good time. but with 7 rubles remaining on my phone and 15 in my pocket, i just wish my effing ATM card worked. alas, not the case.

college has been the best "bum training" i could ever have asked for.

at any rate, i've got a home, warm food (mmm, borsch again) and a coupla menthols left. and friends that don't like me unless i've got a beer in my hand. so that's nice.

Currently Listening Tha Rippla By Mr. Pookie smoke one (perfect for strolls down áîëüøîé ïðîñïåêò) see related

çäîðîâî ïîëó÷èëàñü!

i'm in russia.

it wasn't quite what i expected, but russia never is.

cheap beer, cheap smokes, and at least one good friend. plus, i know how to "do" russia. so i'm having a good enough time.

my mom seemed to be all afraid that i was gonna come over here, meet some dude, wanna have babies with him and stay abroad. what the fuck? i've been single for a while now, and anyway i think it's safe to say i'm not one of those girls that neeeeeeds a boyfriend. my mom gets paranoid about the weirdest things. and anyway, i'm in RUSSIA, for god's sake. MULLETS are in style here. fucking MULLETS. business in the front, party in the back, let's-get-a-case-of-bud-light-and-go-listen-to-whitesnake-down-by-the-river mullets. the hottest pop star right now (dima bilan) is the mullet king- men want to be him, women want to be with him, etc. etc. well, he can stuff it. where is bruce effing willis??? (well, he's old balls now, but you get it. i don't want no sissy pansy mullet boy. i want an american BADASS that can open beer bottles w/ his eye socket. grrrrr!)

also, i'm living with communists. like, card carrying reds. i found a red schoolbook with stalin's face on it... pictures to follow, i promise. they told me that "dallas" (the 70's soap) brainwashed the russian people into buying into democracy. WHAT? but, meh, they're harmless. good people, and they feed me. the food's not bad except for one incident with what can only be described as meat jello... i won't go into it, i'll just throw up in my mouth.

i chased two big fat fucking rats down the street the other day. beer was involved. but they were so BIG!!!

so... that's about it. i'm trying my damndest to get russians to be my friend. they're all assholes anyway here. big city mentality- they don't give a shit. i've got a couple of friends but mostly i just wander around with my ipod blaring some hip hop and drink beer by myself... it's satisfying.

word.

here's the thing...

holy crap. semester is over. i am simultaneously terrified and excited, and that makes my tummy hurt a little bit.

i have NO clue what i'm doing in the next two weeks. or for the next six months, for that matter. so i guess i'm relegated to living for the moment... fuck planning. (well, except for planning parenthood. insert smarmy liberal campaign issue support here!) i dunno that mom'n'pop'll be too stoked about my plan of not planning. or the rest of the western world, for that matter. hell, i might end up sleeping 'neath an underpass and drinking listerine. (1. to get drunk 2. even hobos gotta have fresh breath!) most likely, i'll go to russia and speak russian, then come back to norman, finish school, and move to chicago to wreak havoc on the mid-west's golden city. something like that. ooof, there's that funny stomach feeling again... everytime i think about the future.

a new year fast approaches. i'm stoked. that might actually get me in the mindset to, oh, i dunno, get my shit together. right now i still just want to get finals over with.

this pointless entry brought to you by my intense hatred of studying contemporary russian poetry!!!

"rulers make bad lovers, better put your kingdom up for sale..." -fleetwood mac

Currently Listening Four By Blues Traveler stand see related

a wonderful day

today was thanksgiving. i woke up two hours late, had to cash an expense check just to pay for the gas to get up to enid, and had three scheduled dinners to go to.

i ate three full thanksgiving meals, still had room for pie, and managed not to pass out on the drive home (thanks to everyone i phoned during the trip, i am still alive thanks to our rousing conversations). i saw all of my family and had a glorious time with all of them.

honey's house was the first stop- tom (her 'boyfriend') and i did the dishes, and for the first time in my life i was allowed to wash the dishes and wasn't relegated to drying. this is a big deal, as i have always preferred washing to drying. tom had to dry. i gave him hell and called him an old man (cause he is), he gave me hell and called me a lesbian (thanks, bumper sticker).

then i went to homer and karen's. karen's family was down from alva, that was a merry time. played basketball with karen's niece, called homer a butthead (cause he is), and enjoyed something called "frog eye pie". it was good, although i didn't see any frog eyes in it. just pineapples and tapioca.

third stop- nana's house. my dad turned 50 today, so dad, resa, tim, em, nana, g.pa fred, elizabeth, frances, evan, don, whitney, grace, and kirstin were all there. that's a HUGE family getogether for the harris', i mean, damn. good food, although i was already STUFFED, but i still had room for pumpkin rolls and apple pie (five year old whitney MADE me eat some because she helped make it). i got a dad a card that made me cry when i bought it (watch out, latent daddy issues) and some preparation H (haha, i'm hilaaaarious), and when i left (after taking em and whit to the bridge to throw some rocks at the water, something that's still fun to ten and five year olds) i started crying. like, bawling (look out, more latent daddy issues). i think it's that my dad has this family that he's so much a part of, and i've never really fit into the whole schema of things, and they're still like a family when i go over there... hard to explain. anyway, it's always nice to feel wanted. i left feeling very good about the harris family.

then i went to honey's again (i always stop back by. my grandmothers have lived two minutes away from each other for thirty years.) she stocked me up with SO MUCH FOOD. like, eight bags full of soup, tuna, chicken, beef, bratwursts, buns, brownies... it's seriously endless. i don't have to go grocery shopping for the rest of my duration in norman! hurrah!

THEN i went back to homer's. karen's family was still over there, but they were on their way out the door, and as homer, dave (karen's nephew), and i stood on the driveway waving goodbye to the alvans, dave goes, "i need a beer and a cigarette." homer and i concurred, karen joined us, and we sat out on the porch for a couple of hours decompressing, drinkin beers and smoking cigarettes.

i drove home, called some old friends, and unpacked my groceries.

absolutely wonderful.

"the answers are getting harder (if an answer comes to those who pray)" - blues traveler