something's in the air....

This is my last post from Moscow for awhile. My next updates will come from St. Petersburg. My train heads out tomorrow night.

*and by the way, this blog is filled with few events and mostly my own personal introspection, to which I am prone in times of change. So don't read it if you're not interested in that.

Last night was my "going away party" which even though I'm coming back, it won't be to this apartment (unfortunate for my social life, fortunate for my bank account). Honestly, the party was in many ways a big freakin' fiasco. There were tons of people here, most of whom I didn't know.
Brooke: Desi I'm really impressed at all these cool friends you have! Where did you find them?
Desi: I don't know most of them, I have no idea how I found them.
(although, those other random guests aside, I was pleasantly proud of myself - "hey! I made friends!")

I had wanted a more intimate party, with the friends that I had already made, and a chance to spend time with them, some of whom won't be around when I'm back in Moscow. Well, the best laid plans of mice and Desi are often gone astray. Maybe I should stop trying to plan things, like Alana (who always says, Desi, I wish that I could plan things like you do). Unfortunate we did piss off the neighbor, but hey, I move out tomorrow. Just kidding, I feel bad because some of the guests didn't really have fun, and others had too much fun. Anyway, I'm rambling. Last night, while I was lying in the middle of my bed, surrounded on one side by Dave, the other side by Zhenya (and the person in the middle always gets the least amount of space) I thought about naming this blog "International University Crash Room Redux" in honor of the sardine-style nights spent in the dorms in Moscow in 1997 when seven of would fit into two twin beds pushed together. But I digress.

Not enough sleep was had, and the apartment was a mess. Thank god I didn't drink alot and wasn't hung over. Some cleaning was done, some coffee was drunk, etc. I went to visit an friend who couldn't make it to the party and had dinner with her and Alana and then Alana and I came home, and instead of staring to pack, we talked for 3 hours about life, plans, family, and what the hell this stuff all means. Its funny because Alana is 23 and completely different from me and from the me I was at 23. And she came to Russia very accidentally and is now trying to decide what to do about all of it. She's impulsive, light hearted, and carefree. She says she admires my drive and dedication and devotion to Russia and to the path that I have chosen for myself in life, and my compulsiveness in many things. I admire her spirit and her ability to take whatever life throws at her next, without worrying about it all (too much). It's funny because different lives, paths and personalities brought us to our kitchen table in Moscow, but we're both on the brink of something, we just don't know what it is.

My sub-conscious has been up to something the last few months. During the day, I go to the archives and I love it. I love my topic, I love the act of research, I love it all. I'm making great progress on my topic. But when I'm not doing what I came here to do, something else is up. When I got to Moscow I was so ready to be out of Charlottesville for awhile. It had gotten too small, and I couldn't get away from reminders of things that were less than pleasant for me. Well, you can't run away from things because I've managed to dwell, in a productive way on the events of the past few years plenty. The actions of others, the choices I made, etc. etc. But I've also been dreaming, day-dreaming about all of these others things that I want to do, somethings which were dreams from a long time ago that I forgot, others that are new, which has turned into some really serious thinking about what I want to do with my life. I look forward, honestly - in my really nerdy way - to plowing through my information, reading random books and writing my dissertaion about the fate of religious structures in Soviet urban planning (fine, yawn, I don't care). But then I started to realize that I'm not looking forward to doing that next year. I"m restless. And no, I'm not ready to join that proverbial "real world". Maybe that's because I realize I spent so much of my youth being so damn serious.

Okay, so I'm still serious. But how much have I done because that's what everyone expected me to do? This year so far, I have found it almost impossible to sit down and write applications for fellowships next year, and I don't know why. I've missed all but a few that are left, and I think that its because right now, I don't want to go to Charlottesville and write my dissertation, finish, get a job, whatever. There are other things I want to do. I hope that doesn't come off as selfish, because I know that I have already been blessed with the opportunities and abilities to do so many things in my relatively short life so far, and I've been able to do things that my many people will never get the chance to do, and I'm extremely grateful for that. But I don't want to take all of that for granted by passively accepting one particular path and whatever type of future that it will lead to. I feel as though right now there is one set of choices I could make that would lead to one life, and another set that will lead to another life entirely. I don't know what they are right now, but I have to make the choices soon, or I may always look back and wonder what could have been.

I saw a quote the other day online. Its an Hasidic Jewish saying and it just really struck me: "Carefully observe the way your heart draws you and then choose that way with all your strength."

I"m working on it.