22 November

It has been a tough week.  Crying and not leaving my dorm room for days on end tough.  Mood swings like I am sixteen again tough.  Histrionic I hate this country I want to go home type stuff.  Luckily, going home is a pain in the ass, so I won’t be making any snap decisions on that front.  Especially since I am rapidly running out of money, and plane tickets to the US aren’t cheap.  Luckily for you I put off writing this until I was in a little better place emotionally, so I won’t feel obligated to tell you in excruciating detail the many things that pissed me off this week.  It basically went like this: everything was good until Friday.  The day that we had planned to have Thanksgiving in the dorm.  We bought a goose and everything.  Then, I went to the administrator to make sure that it would be okay to have a Thanksgiving dinner.  I tried as hard as I could in my broken Russian to indicate how important this was to me.  The answer was a resounding no.  Not only no, but if anything happened, it would be reported to the University.  Cue crying.  Then I walked past a mail slip with my name on it, telling me that I must pay 90 Litas before I can pick up the package I have been waiting for since I arrived.  Cue hysterical, I-can’t-breathe girl movie sobbing.  This lasted for an hour or so, pretty much until I had to pull myself together for a coffee with a person that was to be very important to a local nonprofit that I am trying to set up.  The coffee went well, the project is on track, and I am pretty sure that I came off as a professional rather than a person that cries because she gets her Thanksgiving taken away.  The meeting ended at 4 or so, which should have given me enough time to get home, transfer money, pull money out of the ATM and get to the post office by five, right?  HA!  I took the wrong bus, ended up across town, finally returning to the dorm completely defeated at 5:10.  One of the people I was supposed to have Thanksgiving with came down, took the goose, and went back upstairs.  Apparently Thanksgiving went off without a hitch.  I wouldn’t know, because I was too emotionally destroyed to leave my room.  Some good friends visited, though, and that made me feel a little better.

Next morning, I woke up late, transferred money, and went to leave the dorm but I was stopped by the woman at reception.  She kept telling me in Lithuanian about the kitchen on the third floor.  I kept insisting that I wasn’t there.  She dragged in a woman from my floor and had her translate in Russian.  Apparently the party was still registered to my room with the university and there was a mess that I needed to take care of.  Cue yelling and more hysterical crying. (and a nice hug from my favorite administrator)  The perfect time for someone who was actually there to walk up, and get angry with me because I was upset that I was being yelled at for a party that I wasn’t at for a holiday that is only important to Americans that I was told I couldn’t throw.  So that’s nice.   Good thing I was on a mission to get my boots and my blanket out of hock, so I didn’t have a lot of time to care how anyone felt about me at that point in time.  I am still having a hard time giving a shit, if we are being honest, even though if I think about it really hard my feelings are a little hurt.

So!  Basically, I spent the weekend hysterical or nearly so and avoided pretty much every other human being that I could.  This is maybe not the most mature strategy, but it did help me to get a paper written and a couple of others started.  I also took up drinking tea, with a vengeance. And I ate SO MUCH mac and cheese.  I can’t believe how orange it is, and how unbelievably delicious.

The rest of the week was good, classes went well, I went to the Yiddish reading circle and I can confidently say that I could pick out the word for Vilnius if you held a gun to my head.  I was able to understand most of what the administrator told me even though she refused to speak slowly in Russian and I spent half of the discussion panicking and crying like a little bitch.  I might have found an apartment to live in for the next semester so I don’t have to put up with the dorm bullshit.  I got a haircut that kicks ass (hairdressers here actually listen when you ask them not to layer your hair).   I bought my ticket for Germany (Ryanair, 17.50 LTL) so I will get to see some of my people over the holidays, hopefully leading me not to panic about Christmas like I did about Thanksgiving.

Tonight, I am listening to a Czech folk musician and drinking tea like it’s my job.  I am not making a lot of progress on my papers, but I did learn the Russian word for subway token, so that is good, right?  I also stitched some patches onto my jeans, so I will be able to put off trying to buy new ones until I actually have money again.

Have I told you how totally unstylish bootleg jeans are here?  No one wears them.  Pretty much no one wears clothes like mine in general (Danskos, anyone?), but I see some people representing with cardigans and scarves….  no one with the bootleg jeans, though.  I really don’t want to put my fat ass into skinny jeans, but I get the feeling it is going to happen come clothes-shopping time, because there is literally nothing else available.

Finally, I will end with a question:  is it possible to have your hair get darker as you get older, like going gray, but with black hair?  I have pulled like five black hairs out of my head this week, and because I am having a crisis about being in my late twenties I am assuming that it is age-related.  Am I being insane, or does this shit happen?

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