I just watched Little Miss Sunshine, and it was so awesome. But I don’t think that you want to read about Little Miss Sunshine or my opinion of it in this blog that is supposed to be about Russia. The only part of the experience that was influenced by being in Russia is the fact that I watched it hiding in my room in the dark. Nastya got home from singing at the Chinese Restaurant right when it was starting, and I very much wanted to avoid questions about what I had done to the washing machine. Agh. I hope that the washing machine is less full of standing, indigo water than it was last time I looked. But I doubt it. I do a lot of ridiculous things to avoid awkward social encounters these days. I’m turning into Natasha- at least I can’t hide under my bed, as she has been know to do, as there’s no room under mine.

I think I have all sorts of interesting observations and stories relating to my recent life, but it’s 2 in the morning, which is way past my usual, oh, 10:00 bedtime. The adrenaline of the laundry experience has just about spent itself, so I am going to bed. Which is too bad for my reading public, because I don’t have time to do justice- actually that would be impossible regardless of time or energy- to my walk to the Musical Theater today, so I’ll just say I now have in my bookbag two oranges described to me as a gift from the Lord. And the phone number of a crazy babushka and the address of her crazy Prayer Center. And various moral doubts. Actually the moral doubts are not contained in my bookbag. To make a long story short, I can’t go have tea with the crazy woman, or go to the crazy church, in order to find a topic for my thesis, or out of curiosity, because it is simply too condescending and patronizing. Because I think they are crazy. And also I don’t really want to make up answers when asked when I found God, etc., nor do I feel like trying to formulate and explain why I don’t think those are very good questions. But I feel very bad, now that this woman gave me her oranges, and offered me money and help with any academic problems I may have, and convinced herself that my taking of the wrong road to the Musical Theater was the work of God. But why am I concerned that her belief that the plans of God can be interpreted be dashed? It sort of seems like a belief worth dashing. This is becoming unshort. It could be a lot unshorter though.

Went to the main university library yesterday and today. It is big and impressive and pretty and called the White House though it is yellow. But it used to be white. And you can’t call it the Yellow House because that means insane asylum. In the 1917 Revolution it was defended from someone or other by a small but fearless group of students of some kind; I don’t think it was the library then. The windows of the reading room look out very scenically on the Angara river, and it was especially pretty yesterday when big fluffy snowflakes were drifting by the bare birch trees and the cedars. Other than these factors, the building is sort of useless. It houses about 200 books, as far as I can tell; the others are in some other building a block away, and you have to go through numerous silly steps to get them. Ok you can get any other information about the belii dom from Natasha, I bet she’s writing about it. Good night.
Oh I forgot that the reason I was looking for the Musical Theater was to see Jesus Christ Superstar, and I would offer some comment, but that particular manifestation of total ridiculousness is available in the United States.