So it turns out that I am indeed going to Yaroslavl... on City Day, which happens to be the day after I first set foot in the country. Paul promises that I'll get more drunk than I've ever been. Lovely. Welcome to Russia. Your attempts at speaking the language have you sounding like a person who had their tongue ripped out in a prison camp? Splendid! Drink up! It doesn't matter that you can't communicate-- you are Amereecan gerl, and that group of Georgians lurking on the street corner will take perfect care of you, should we happen to get separated.
No, I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun, but the idea of being launched into a large event in a country where I am going to be lost is a little scary. Ah well, we'll see how it goes. Hopefully I'll be able to do my signature "sit there and look fascinated while calculating how large exactly a bucket of grease went into crafting this particular hairstyle" move, and all will be well.
Ahh... I am excited, I swear. The idea of City Day with Paul in Yaroslavl just makes me very, very tired.