guess what?

I didn't dream of riding that beautiful bike like I wished. I had this weird dream about Russia and I was speaking desperately in Russian with a vendor on the street trying to get a bottle of water and then I got this sort of resigned sort of feeling and I thought "this is the beginning of the end." But it wasn't exactly... it was like the countdown had begun in my mind. I feel like if I get to go to Russia again the minute I step out of the plane this countdown will begin, because I'm not allowed to stay there. I'm not Russian and I never will be, no matter how hard I pretend. I'm American and that's that, I can't change it. So I just learn more languages and keep trying.

I got my hair cut a few weeks ago and the girl who cut my hair was exceedingly southern and also kind of dim, though it seems cruel to mention both of those facts in the same sentence. She asked me what I studied and I said "Russian" and then she asked me to say something. "Say something in Russia" "Uhm..." "Say happy birthday in Russia" "С днём рождения" "We got girls here that speak Russia too... I think it's cool." Then she told me about her twin sister who's also a hair dresser and they used to work together, until they both got married to men who work on oil rigs. She told me her sister always did what she did and they were married within two days of each other. Their husbands wanted them to be stay at home wives and my hair dresser said no way but her sister said way. She told me about her unhappy childhood and her volatile home life... it was uncomfortable to listen to, but she didn't seem to mind.

Ryan and I are going to New Orleans tomorrow and we'll be back Saturday. We're going to eat beignets, go to the aquarium, take a stroll down bourbon street in the middle of the day and go to a casino. And the zoo. And a ghost tour. And the Acme Oyster House. And Mother's. Jackson Square. French Market. See ya.