I can't sleep...

... which isn't good considering it's already 2:30 am. Awesome... So what's new? Everything, and nothing. I know, profound right? I think it's funny that the only time I ever blog is when I can't sleep. That's probably because I'm too busy any other time.

Since I don't know what to say, I'll just start with today. I worked at the temple. It was amazing as usual. I got to do three veils in Russian today. The Russian sisters are always surprised to find that your not just reading the transliteration, you actually know Russian. Speaking of Russian makes me want to do this all in Russian, but then no one would understand right? А может это все-таки хорошо? Who knows.

I went to homecoming spectacular last night. Here is where I get on my soap box. I have an etiquette professor now that tells us, "in life you only get 5 standing ovations and 10 exclamation points." I agree, therefore I have always been very picky about my standing ovations. If you weren't amazing, I'm not getting up. It's that simple. I really don't care if the rest of the audience stands. I got a little peeved last night. We had really good seats and were close to the front. So this lady in front of me apparently REALLY liked the show, because she decided to give a standing ovation. When no one else deemed it worthy she turned and signaled for everyone to get up. I promptly turned to my date and make him aware of my intention to stay seated. Meanwhile, everyone else in the entire auditorium proceeded to stand. All because of one kooky lady. Really? Have you no self respect? You followers... Anyway, I didn't get up.

In other news I'm going to Moscow next summer for study abroad. Then I'm graduating in August! Finally! :P It's nice to have something to look forward to. I'm starting to get tired now... I think I'll try and go to sleep now.

I thoroughly enjoy this soviet poster.



The End

Профессиональное Интернет-Радио «101.RU» - канал «Russia Top 50»

Have I found you?

Listening to that song makes me want to write something profound. Do you ever feel like that? Like you've got something trapped inside and you just don't know how to get it out? I feel like that a lot. I want to paint something beautiful, or write a song, even write a good story. But every time I start out, something goes wrong. Maybe I'll figure it out someday if I find the strength to keep trying. :)

Once upon a time I painted this...




and this:





and I drew this:


I haven't done anything like that in a LONG time.

I saw Knowing tonight with my brother. I really didn't think that I would like it. But it was actually a pretty good movie, with a lot of religious symbolism, surprisingly enough.

On another note, I wish there were more people in this life that truly got me. I met one the other day. It was oddly comforting. No matter what front I put up, in the end that's all I really want. I act like I'm cold-hearted and stuck up, but all I want is for someone to just look at me and say, "I know that's not you... just put your guard down already..." I don't know why I try to act like I don't care (when I actually do), or that I'm "too cool"; it's so juvenille. Well, I suppose I know why. But sometimes knowing why doesn't make it any easier to fix. :(

This song makes absolutely no sense... but it's beautiful all the same

can't sleep again

:)

I figured I needed to post something more uplifting than the Dachau story.... not that anyone reads this, although it seems some people do occasionally.

Well I got an email from my Russian professor today. It pretty much made my day :)
"Ваша оценка за класс А. Если Вы до конца семестра будете так же хорошо заниматься, Вам не нужно будет сдавать заключительный экзамен."

wooohooo!

Ok so, I think historical fiction is not my area. Ok so maybe writing fiction in general is not the best idea for me... I always expect it to come across one way, and everyone interprets it differently. Maybe there's a disconnect between me and the rest of the world that I should be worried about. Well, regardless I still write non-fiction well, (reviews, research, etc.) For now I'll just stick with that. Still, I should probably follow Prof. Newell's advice and keep trying. But it's so much easier just to give up :) Ahhh I'm torn.

I'm still having trouble focusing, this always seems to happen to me at the end of the semester. Although, I have to say it's coming a lot later this semester, which shows some improvement :)I've got one page done for my book review, only two more to go! It's not due until thursday, so I suppose I'm still ok. And... that's all I have left to do. Then it's exams!!

I'm sooo looking forward to this summer. I'm just going to chill, relax, and lay back... get the idea? After a year and a half stuffing my brain full of Russian and stressing out about people's salvation, and a semester at BYU (with some really hard classes) I'm ready to just do... nothing. Of course I'll have a job. But I demand that it be no-stress. You hear that? I demand!

this is kind of sad, but soooo cute!

From Russia With Love <3

I finally realized why I can’t write my Russian love story without being incredibly cheesy. It's because that’s how a Russian would write it. That’s how they would expect it to be. Russians are possibly the cheesiest people on earth, even the hardcore guys. You wouldn’t think so… it always seems like Russians should be the hardest and meanest people. But no, they are cheesy and corny. I just need to get myself out of the Russian mindset, which is hard because the story is based in Russia. I’ve been trying to put myself into the story and imagine what it would be like so that the story seems more real. But that’s not going to work for an American market. I have to get the Russian setting, but then put myself back in America in terms of personalities.

I was watching Kadetstvo the other day; it’s a Russian TV show. Honestly it made me kind of sick how cheesy the story and even the acting was. It was just so typical and cliché. For example... in one episode there is this boy, who is a student at a military academy, and he falls in love with his teacher (mind you this is an ongoing relationship I’m only giving the results of one episode) and she asks him to come to a café with her. She is leaving on a train soon and she starts asking him all these questions about another girl that is his age, he is basically like, “why do you care?” Anyway, they fight about it for a while, and he starts yelling, and she says “I care because to me you aren’t indifferent” Which I’m assuming translates better into “I care about you” and then, of course, she leaves and runs out of the café. He, of course, follows her and grabs her; very roughly I might add, causing her to drop her suitcase. She starts crying…and he says, “what did you say?!” She says, through tears, “I have to go… I have to catch my train…” and he says, “what did you say?! Is that true? Is that true!?!” And she says “yes… yes it’s true! But I have to go!” and he gives some stupid speech of… “I hope everything works out for you…. Blah blah blah…” and leaves, and as he is walking away the camera focuses in on the teachers face, and the boy is walking away behind her, she screams his name… "Maksim!" she turns around, then he turns around, and they run to each other’s embraces. They start kissing and he assures her that he will never let her go and that he’ll take care of her, then he asks for her train ticket and rips it up. SOOOO cheesy. But the best part is that while I was watching this all I could think about was how similar this was to my story. They do the same exact thing only at the airport. It’s really quite funny how that worked out. I swear I hadn’t watched this before I wrote the story. At least now I understand how corny my story was.

:)

I'm happy... it's a good feeling. I was just thinking, you know... wondering why I'm being so positive all of a sudden, and I realized that I owe it all to my mission. It really changed me. I look at life different now. Not only am I glad to have a nice home, access to a good education, a family that loves me, the true church, to live in America... the list is endless by the way, but I'm just glad to be alive.

I remembered something that happened on my mission that really turned things around for me. It was when I was serving with Sister Rashupkina. I really am so glad I served with her, even though it was probably the hardest three months of my life up to this point. I learned so much with her.

Anyways, we were standing on the coast of the Volga in Engles, it was during zone conference. We walked out onto a dock-type-thing and looked into the water. Sister Rashupkina said something along the lines of, "Oh look how beautiful this is..." Mind you, she was looking out at the water. I, on the other hand, looked down and saw all the trash that had been tossed into the bank, probably by all the drunks that made their daily and nightly rounds across the coast. I said, "hmm... and I just see trash." Then I looked out across the river and saw Saratov... huge smoke stacks pumping pollution into the air at alarming rates. "I see pollution..." I honestly can't remember if it was something Sister Rashupkina said after that or if it was something I came up with on my own... but it really bothered me for a while... why was it that she saw beauty and all I could see was trash? So I thought about it and came to a good conclusion.





Sister Rashupkina... no matter how annoying she was about it at times, chose to see things the way they could be, not necessarily the way they were. This allowed for optimism without hypocrisy. A battle I had been struggling with my whole life... how do you be optimistic and realistic at the same time. I could never justify saying something was good, when I really thought it was bad... pretty when I couldn't stand the sight of it. But alas there's a great loop hole. Seeing things for the way they could be. So, in terms of the Volga, you can look at it this way: it really could be a beautiful river if they would just clean it up. So, you look past the trash and you see something grand, and you may even take the time to clean up the trash while you're at it :)





So I look at my life and I see what it could be, not what it's not... if that makes sense. I then work towards what I want it to be :) There are so many possibilities for me, so much to look forward to.

On another note... I think I'm going to start donating plasma if I can. I'm not sure if there's some restriction since I spent a year in Russia. Who knows, but I think that would be a good way to earn some extra cash :) maybe save up for a ticket to Russia. I found one today for only 600 bucks. That's not bad, and considering I wouldn't have to pay for a hotel... I can afford that. What I can't afford is to pass up an opportunity like that while I'm still single. Especially since I would have a free room in St. Petersburg and a free tour guide :) I could spend all day at the Hermitage ))) that would be amazing eh?

Ohh and I got the results back for the Russian challenge exam. Sixteen credits of sweet delicious A! I'm so happy, that's really going to boost my gpa which has kind of been suffering. I still can't believe I got a 99... so close to 100% I only missed one :)

Well I better get to bed now, I have to be to the temple early tomorrow. Oh and if anyone happens to read this... I'm performing on Sunday at 7pm at the Provo Tabernacle in the Russian Choir. It's going to be amazing so come!!

we're singing this song for Russian choir. Its so pretty!

moi liubimi gorod

even MORE creative non-fiction :)

For the Love of Dresses

‘Yeah… I’m a size four’ I thought. I leaned forward with my arms crossed, just as the sales assistant had instructed. I tried to remain silent and relaxed. But I could feel her tugging on the ribbons and with every cinch I felt as though the world was imploding around me. Was I going to be able to breathe after this?
“So when’s the big day?” she inquired politely.
“Well I’m not officially engaged,” I said.
“Oh… well how long have you been dating?”
“Not very long,” I couldn’t lie.
“Don’t jinx it!” my mother quipped. “It’s better not to talk about it because we’re not sure when he’s going to ask yet.” Nice save.
She made one final tug and then delicately tied the bow at the bottom. I stepped out of my room and onto the little platform covered in tacky red carpet. The mirrors seemed to be playing tricks on me. I knew I stood there a poor university student but somehow they reflected a princess. I turned to the side to get a glimpse of the back. Every bead seemed perfectly placed, the lace so refined. Turning back I caught a glimpse of my hand in the mirror. The empty space on my finger was just a reminder of my deception. At least now it was true that I was in love, just not with any man.
My mother stood in the background chatting with the other mothers. I could see she was enjoying this; perhaps a little too much. I let out a sigh as I stepped down from the platform. I grabbed my mother’s arm and pulled her into the dressing room where she proceeded to unlace the ribbon that was mercilessly holding me captive.
“Don’t worry mom,” I said, “someday we’ll get to do this for real. But for now my love affair will have to be with a dress.”
I looked at the dress on the wall one last time. It hung so lifeless and with out form. I wished I could take it with me. But unfortunately my deceit could not justify the eight hundred and eighty-eight dollars. So we left the store and tried not to look back.

more creative non-fiction

Names have been changed….
A Day in Prague
While they were climbing the steep hill that led to St. Vitus’ cathedral in Prague, Elder Beck began to seriously regret the decision to bring his bag.
“I’m sorry you guys,” he mumbled, “I know President Russell told us not to bring bags. I can’t believe I left it there!” The worst he could imagine was that someone had stolen it.
As they approached the cathedral and nearby Prague castle they noticed an unusually large crowd. “Huh, that’s funny,” Elder Beck said, “there weren’t this many people here before.”
They all seemed to be congregating around something. A deep sinking feeling rushed into his heart. “oh no…”
They ran in for a closer look. The crowd was standing in a large circle and everyone looked on in the same direction. Elder Beck immediately recognized the object of their attention.
He knew what he had to do. He slowly approached one of the Prague royal guards.
He cleared his throat, “um excuse me…”
“We cannot talk to you right now, there is a bomb threat. Can’t you see that!”
“Yes… well… that is my bag…”
“What!! You come with us!”
The guards grabbed a hold of him and hurriedly dragged him to the interrogation room not far from the cathedral. The room was suffocatingly small and Elder Beck could barely see past the bright light that was dangling back and forth over his head.
“Who are you?” They shouted.
“I… I’m American, I’m serving as a missionary in Russia and I’m here to renew my visa. I just left my bag here on accident I swear!”
“If you are American show us your passport!”
“I don’t have my passport.”
“What do you mean you don’t have your passport? Where is it?”
“I don’t know….”
The guard slammed his fist on the table and leaned in closer, attempting to garner some new information from Elder Beck’s eyes. “You don’t know?? How do you not know where your passport is?”
“Well, we all gave our passports to some lady in the airport… we are supposed to meet her at six o’clock tonight to get them back… but I don’t know who she is or how to get a hold of her. ”
Unfortunately for Elder Beck this all sounded very suspicious. However, after another series of interrogating questions the police finally realized he was just a dumb kid who had forgotten his bag and let him go. As the police escorted Elder Beck back outside, he mumbled shamefully, “So… am I going to get my bag back?”
The guards said, “oh yes… you’ll get your bag back.”
Meanwhile, back at the cathedral the crowd was continuing to grow. They watched the mysterious bag with eyes wide open, anticipating a grand explosion or an exciting arrest.
With a push from the guards Elder Beck began the long lonely journey to the center of the crowd. Somehow the hundreds of tourists who had gathered managed to remain deadly silent. Elder Beck had only the laughter of his fellow missionaries to comfort him as every eye focused on the seemingly ignorant American. He hung his head and watched the ground, counting the cobble stones as he went along.

creative non-fiction

“The branch president wants you to bear your testimony.”

“Today??”

“Yes he will call you up once the meeting starts.”

“But… I don’t speak Russian. I can’t…”

“Look, you’re a missionary, you are supposed to testify, what did you do for three months in the MTC?”

“I don’t remember…”

I was terrified. There was no way I could get up in front of a congregation of Russians on my first Sunday in Russia and bear my testimony. What was the branch president thinking? They probably figured they’d get a good laugh out of it.

I struggled to pay attention to the announcements, catching snippets of words I knew. When all of a sudden I heard the most familiar and dreaded of them all, my name, “Cestra Pyerkinz.” It was my signal to go up to the front… that along with the hundreds of eyes suddenly staring at me.

I stood at the podium. My shaking arms were sending vibrations into the old wood and rattling the microphone causing an uncomfortable clicking noise. I let go of the podium. Everyone was looking at me. I knew they were just waiting for the American girl to mess up, to say something funny like new missionaries always do. I took a deep breath. I began to speak, honestly not even knowing what was coming out of my mouth. Surely every word was incomprehensible, muddled and confusing. I could feel the tears coming. It was certainly not because I felt the spirit, although I was prone to let them believe that. I was mortified, embarrassed, and the stress of moving across the world was finally coming to the surface. I had to sit down. I quickly ended my speech and ran back to the seat next to my companion. I was ready to burst into sobs. I could have called the mission president right then and there. “Send me home now!” I would have said. “I can’t do this! I can’t learn Russian!”

But just as I was loosing all hope, I looked up with tears welling in my eyes. I saw the branch president. He looked back at me. It wasn’t much to be sure, but he smiled at me and he held up his thumb. I saw the word “molodyets” (“Good job”) move silently across his lips.

I smiled back and almost magically the tears subsided. I pulled my notebook out of my bag so that during the meeting I could write down all the words I didn’t know. After all, if I was going to be in Russia for fifteen more months I better start learning the language.

and another...

This time with the English translation... because I didn't find it too unbearable :)


To ***
I still remember that amazing moment
You have appeared before my sight
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.

Locked in depression's hopeless captive,
In haste of clamorous processions,
I heard your voice - soft and attractive.
And dreamt of your beloved expressions.

Time passed. In gusts, rebellious and active,
A tempest scattered my affections
And I forgot your voice attractive,
Your sacred and divine expressions.

Detained in darkness, isolation,
My days would slowly drag in strife.
With lack of faith and inspiration,
With lack of tears, and love and life.

My soul attained its waking moment:
You re-appeared before my sight,
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.

And now, my heart, in fascination
Beats rapidly and finds revived:
Devout faith and inspiration,
And tender tears and love and life.


К ***
Я помню чудное мгновенье:
Передо мной явилась ты,
Как мимолетное виденье,
Как гений чистой красоты.

В томленьх грусти безнадежной
В тревогах шумной суеты
Звучал мне долго голос нежный
И снились милые черты.

Шли годы. Бурь порыв мятежной
Рассеял прежние мечты,
И я забыл твой голос нежный,
Твой небесные черты.

В глуши, во мраке заточенья
Тянулись тихо дни мои
Без божества, без вдохновенья,
Без слез, без жизни, без любви.

Душе настало пробужденье:
И вот опять явилась ты,
Как милолетное виденье,
Как гений чистой красоты.

И сердце бьется в упоенье,
И для него воскресли вновь
И божество, и вдохновенье,
И жизнь, и слезы, и любовь

Romance :)

another amazing poem by Pushkin

Ночь
Мой голос для тебя и ласковый и томный
Тревожит поздное молчанье ночи темной.
Близ ложа моего печальная свеча
Горит; мои стихи, сливаясь и журча,
Текут, ручьи любви, текут, полны тобою.
Во тьме твои глаза блистают предо мною,
Мне улыбаются, и звуки слышу я:
Мой друг, мой нежный друг... люблю...
твоя... твоя!...

Татьяна Буланова Не плачь

seriously might be one of the saddest songs I've ever heard...

dobro pazhalovat domoi!

Ok so I'm finally updating my blog. Its been forever. Well, it seems like it. Life... is so freakin good right now. I'm actually not behind in school, I got an A on my russian quiz, and Sister Mckay finally got home! Good weekend for sure. I went out both Friday and Saturday. Saw Gran Torino... good movie, definitely up there on my list of favorites. On Sunday I went to Sister Mckay's, a.k.a. Anne's, homecoming. It was good to see her again. I also got my recorder back. Sister Ksyupova had left me some messages. It made me a little sad to listen to them. I just really miss the mission sometimes. Well, mostly I just miss the people there. I do not, however, miss getting up at 6:30 every day :)

I realized the other day that pretty much all of my high school friends, well the mormon ones, are either married or engaged. Hmm... I'm not sure how I feel about that. But alas I will not worry about that, because as I decided last week after the campus devotional, I am going to concentrate on the process and let the end work itself out. I've got a lot going on with school and romance is just going to have to sneak its way into my life... as I'm sure it will, because its pretty good at that.

I really like my classes this semester. I have some awesome professors. I really lucked out. I love creative writing, because it actually makes me sit down and write. Which I should do more often. I also have to do a lot of reading for that class as, which is good because otherwise I would never just sit down and read three hours of poetry. I've been writing poems for the past few weeks, I might post some on here. I have to keep a notebook of ideas too... so beware, if you're talking to me and you say something stupid... I'm writing it down :)

Well anyways... I'm a happy girl. Life is good and I hope that doesn't change anytime soon.

somnyeniye

ok... so I'm sitting here in my little corner of the HBLL feeling a little bit... ok no a lot bit overwhelmed. I can't even explain it. I just turned down the interview for the job I was almost willing to kill for and I'm wondering if I haven't made a huge mistake. Why is it that I can never follow through? I have this illusion of being something great... but you crack the shell and there's nothing underneath. I really wanted that job.... its like I go into self protection mode and think that somehow it is easier if I turn them down than if they turn me down. In all truth, I could have probably made it through the semester with a job, especially this one since its on campus and probably wouldn't be too hard. When I told the lady I was turning down the interview she looked at me like I was crazy... she was probably thinking something along the lines, "you are the one who applied for the job... whats your problem?" I can't believe I even got Ron Maines(co-founder of the history channel) to be a reference for me... I'm such a dork. And to top it all off, the lady called me on friday... I just went in today to say no. Real professional.....

Hmm so what was Elder Holland's devotional about yesterday? Looking forward and moving on. Easier said than done, I think that's my biggest flaw actually. I have trouble letting go and just getting over things. Too much self reflection....

ok well other than that little slip up, life is going reasonably well. I think...

I'm looking forward to the Russian old new year party on friday, I'm really hoping that will pull me out of this slump.

I loved you... by Alexander Pushkin

Я Вас любил А.С. Пушкин
Я вас любил: любовь еще, быть может
В душе моей угасла не совсем;
Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит;
Я не хочу печалить вас ничем.
Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,
То робостью, то ревностью томим;
Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно,
Как дай вам бог любимой быть другим.