K R I S T I N

"Un esempio di professionality ed amore per lo sport"

2012-01-07T05:19:00.000-08:00

A lot of you have written me about what's going on with my team here in Italy... and I've been meaning to respond but I just don't have the time (mostly the emotional energy) to walk you all through it so I'm posting here for sanity's sake.

I've spent the last three months playing for a team up north in Veneto named Conegliano. To be brief, I fell instantly in love with my team. Young but with a ton of heart we competed as hard as we could every time we stepped onto the court. Our coach somehow created a very unique atmosphere for us to train and compete in where we felt like, whether we won or lost, we were a part of something special. Meanwhile we weren't getting paid. And without going into descriptive detail, our president was always promising money and new sponsors but nothing ever materialized. Finally we went public with the fact that we had 1/3 of the salaries we should've had by playing a match mid-December where we wrote "SENZA SOLDI, MA SQUADRA" in sharpee down all of our arms... which in english means "no money, but a team"...it made newspapers all over italy and both the public and volleyball community stepped in trying to help which was encouraging... but unfortunately at that point it was just too late.. there wasn't enough time. We kept practicing for a few more days until we finally said we were done and not stepping on the court until we were paid. Then christmas was around the corner and we had a scheduled league match the 26th against Pesaro which is a team much more talented than ours. After not practicing that entire week and debating on whether or not to buy flights home for christmas but deciding to stay, and hours and hours of exhausting meetings with each other trying to decide what to do, we stepped on the court for what turned out to be the last time in front of our home crowd at Zoppas arena. But we didn't know that at the time. We were still holding on to a little hope that we'd sign with the sponsor, they'd be able to pay us, and we'd be able to finish the season together.

It was the fullest the arena had been all season, and it felt even fuller from the amount of overflowing emotion coming from both our fans and ourselves. Everybody's hearts that night were erupting with a mix of energy and fear. The feelings felt more intimately between our team are hard to describe - whatever they were, they were raw. A mix between anger, frustration, and a desire to prove our professionalism despite our circumstance ....imagine stepping on the court to compete not knowing if the next day you'd have a job or if you'd ever play side by side with the girls you'd created connections with. Anyway, we won. We won despite everything and everyone fighting against us. The crowd was on their feet during the tie-break and instantly rushed the court when the last ball dropped.....it was a match full of many moments that I will never forget. Following the win, we had a press conference where the whole team (as opposed to just the captain) was asked to attend. The press room was packed over capacity with masses of reporters, fans, and different members of the opposing team and when me and my teammates walked in, the entire room got on their feet and gave us a standing ovation. Soon after, different people on various italian volleyball blogs and websites called the match, "un esempio di professionality ed amore per lo sport" which translates to "an example of professionalism and love for the sport".....

The match for me (for many reasons) was one of the proudest moments of my volleyball career. It's hard to articulate justly, but to have been a part of those 2 1/2 hours experiencing those moments with those people after what we'd been through was something very special.

After the match followed three of the longest days of absolute hell where we were fighting for our team to stay alive, but in the end, no one could find a solution and sparing you the drawn out and dismal details the club was forced to fold.

The aftermath included of a lot of packing, bear hugging, and teary goodbyes. I've always been really bad at goodbyes.... it's most likely an inevitable result of the way I unabashedly open my heart up to new people and experiences. But goodbyes were eventually said and off we all went to find new jobs and celebrate the new year all over different pockets of europe. I got to spend new years in Milan with some of my closest friends, and it was suuuuuch a perfect weekend....

Almost immediately after the club disbanded, I was offered and signed a contract on another team in A1 which I'm really happy about because it allows me to be able to finish out the season and continue my career here in Italy. SO, now I'm on a new team in Piacenza which is a city about 45 minutes south of Milan..... the team is currently kicking butt and in 4th place in the standings, and as fate would have it (I love you, fate) my very good friend and USA volleyball teammate Nicole Davis is on this team. Needless to say I'm really happy to have a buddy as I make this transition. I've had a few trainings with the team so far and the girls are really kind and the club has taken great care of me.

Here's the press release on the new team's website... (you're gonna need google translate if you don't parli italiano)...
http://www.rebecchinordmeccanica.it/news/5545-arriva-kristin-richards.html

In retrospect, these last couple of weeks have been super challenging. I've lost money, been lied to, and lost a (and had to find a new) job. But luckily I'm the kind of person that has optimism swirling through my veins (sometimes to a fault) and I'm able to see the good that came out of this too.

A preview of that good includes the people I met and the friendships I made, the lessons I learned both on and off the volleyball court about being a professional and (regardless of circumstance) doing a job with integrity, and the fact that our team (regardless of the outcome) fought for something we believed in.

SPES 2011

Vs Piacenza in December "Senza Soldi Ma Squadra"

Our 5 game upset over Novara

Match point of our last match

Thank you, con mi cuore, to the fans of Conegliano, my teammates and my coaches....

Here's to the memories made and the new ones ahead......

London? London.

2011-11-17T14:20:00.000-08:00

Just stopping by to mention/OBNOXIOUSLY ANNOUNCE that USA women's volleyball has officially qualified for the 2012 Olympics!!!!!!!!!!!!! My super-power posse is in Japan right now competing at the World Cup... and we beat Italy this morning securing our berth to LONDON next summer. I mean.... it's just so so great. I am so proud of the girls...some of my dearest friends. They are so talented and hard working and brilliant and deserving.

GO USAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Italy, first installment

2011-11-16T15:36:00.000-08:00

Straightaway I'd like to establish that I have something they are calling bipolar bloggers disorder - a very serious condition I assure you - and I'm back for an instant but don't get too comfortable because in the blink of an eye I could disappear into thin air for eight straight months unintentionally breaking your heart because now you have nowhere to go when you want to waste your time. As you can imagine, it's quite difficult being the victim to such an unforgiving condition. But mostly I just hate that you my dear readers have to be dragged through this mess too. I hope it sorts itself out soon. For now.... I'd like to promise you some sort of consistency on this thing but unfortunately I'm simply incapable of doing so. But I will promise you this ....when my condition allows, I'll be here.

As for life (apart from the condition) I've got another summer under my belt and I'm back overseas living the nomad's dream. Speaking of nomad, I realized the other day I have suitcases with goods (who knows what, I can't keep track?) in four different locations around the world. Once (and if) I get all my bags back it will be like Christmas, finding once loved and then lost treasures that I haven't seen for entire calendar years. I've played three (THREE?) years in Russia (part of me still to this day does not believe this), one quality year in the middle east, and now... drum roll please... ITALY. And turns out this whole Italy thing is really romantic so far. Maybe a bit more romantic for me in particular because, well, because for anyone that knew me when I was a young and budding volleyball hopeful knows how much I've always wanted to play professionally here.... I even took a few semesters of the italian language at Stanford to prepare myself for the case that my dream came true. Did I ever foresee myself graduating from college and moving to the North Pole to spend the next three years fighting frost-bite? CAPITAL n-o. But perhaps the pro-volleyball gods felt they had to put me through a siberian initiation (rude) before I could finally come play here.

I'm living and playing for an A1 team in Conegliano, a beautiful and peaceful little city nestled in northern Italy known for art and white wine. This city is in a special spot because it's not only an hour drive north to the mountains (I've heard rumors of exceptional ski resorts open in winter months) but a half hour drive from Venice. VENICE! And I will write more about all of the following things later but in just a few sentences, I really like it here. My team is wonderful. The girls are so kind and my coach is a real gem, too. He has infectious energy and I love playing for him.

Other things I love about this place in no particular order are; the language, the people, the atmosphere, the (overconsumption of) coffee, the cute old people on the bicycles, the volleyball, the lack of speed limit on the autostrada, the quality of the balsamic vinaigrette, and the food and how people eat without guilt.

And although minimal, a few things I don't like about this place in no particular order are; the amount of carbs I am forced to intake (I'm the victim), the absence of automatic cars (more on that soon), and the conspirators at all the gas stations that steal my money and trick me into thinking I'm paying for regular gas when I'm actually paying for diesel (see ya later 45 euros).

Alright more soon (condition allowing) but I'll leave you with a fun fact. My coach called a hairbrush a "hair organizer" today.
Ciaoooooooooooooooooooooo

For my big sis.

2011-03-13T01:04:00.000-08:00

Hi world. I just want to say at the top of my blogging lungs that I love my big sister. Her name is Lauren, but to most she's known as Lolo - the nickname she acquired when she was young because her kid sister couldn't say her real name - and she is, in very little words, beautiful and talented and thoughtful and kind. She's been married to this really great guy Taylor for a while now, and this summer they brought this breathtakingly beautiful little girl into the world that has stolen my heart away and in a lot of ways changed my life. What an incredible light she is to me, and everyone who has had the chance to meet her. I have always been drawn to kids but gosh dang, it's a whole different ball game when it's your own blood. Those of you out there reading this with kids, nieces or nephews probably know what I'm talking about, but I'm a rookie so it's all still so astounding to me.... the miracle of life and how full of love I feel for this little person.

I remember last summer when I flew home as my sister went into labor .... I couldn't wait to meet her, the bite sized angel from God and newest addition to our family. I remember rocking her while she slept with her tiny hand wrapped around my finger... I remember thinking to myself that this is what it is all about, these moments.... moments which unfortunately don't come around nearly as often as I would like, but thanks to little Peach, they come in much bigger doses these days.

Thankfully, this season has gone by pretty fast thanks lots of late nights and good laughs with great girlfriends, but it has been really really hard being away from home. It's always hard being away from home because my family is so incredible, but now that this little runt is in the picture and she's getting all big all fast, it's even harder. I am so sad I am not around to hear her giggles and see her developing her little personality....the only thing that is getting me through is our weekly skype dates, Lolo's emails telling me about her and Peach's days, and thinking about all the quality time we're going to get to spend together this summer. Granted I'll be juggling usa volleyball too, but all that means is that lots of skymiles are to be acquired.

Lolo, you are amazing. She is amazing. She is amazing because you are amazing. I am as honored as aunts come to be a part of her little life, and love you both so much.

Less than 2 months from now, me you Peach and grandma can go on walks, take naps out in the backyard, get snow cones and go to the pool, paint nails, catch up and have a hundred sleepovers. Hope you've got a spot ready for me on your couch.

Checking in from the opposite side of the pond

2011-01-01T01:46:00.000-08:00

Hi my dear readers, I'm here!!!! I'm not going to say I'm back because that would be foolish considering my history with this thing, but I'm here. Happy New Year. Lots has happened since the last time I wrote, and I can't catch you up on all of it but to summarize I am head over heels in love with my niece, recently addicted to the vampire diaries, and working hard to become a better person.

I've also moved to the middle east. Don't worry it's not like an Eat Pray Love thing, it's still pro volleyball. Alot of people assume I returned to my siberian quarters but contrary to popular belief, I've upgraded from the icebox. My current country of residency is Azerbaijan. Most and by most I mean 95 percent of the people I tell have never heard of it, so don't feel bad if you're reading this feeling a bit self-conscious about your world geography. Azerbaijan is a small country located south of Russia, east of Turkey, north of Iran (but I usually leave that part out to avoid panic) right on the caspian sea. I live in the capital city, Baku, which is inhabited by about 2 million and is populated with all sorts of people color and culture. I'll spare you the Wikipedia report, but if you're interested in knowing more about this place, ask, and I'll share some cool articles I've found. In short, it's a country considered "up and coming" thanks to the sea full of petroleum at its disposal, and some say it's the next Dubai because they're spending tons of dough building really ritzy skyscrapers and installing all the luxury hotels of the world along the water. Definitely an interesting culture that takes getting used to but I like it here for the following reasons:

-Great weather (comparable to San Francisco year around)

-Great shopping, and

-Great restaurants (most importantly they've got legit mexican chow)

.......none of which I experienced in Russia.

See that little star on the east coast of the country? That's me! I'm there, living and still so lucky to be playing the sport I love for a paycheck. Who knew (I didn't) that the middle east had any interest in the sport of volleyball. This league is new, but because of the numbers on the petroleum soaked paychecks, there are lots of us foreigners here which makes for a pretty competitive league. There are 12, count em', 12 Americans living and competing here in Baku this year. Most of which are really great gals and good friends of mine from the national team. And anyone that knows me knows I adore good girlfriends, so having them here is such a cool thing.

Anyway friends, I've gotta run but hope you are all doing great and excited about the new year. I am ready for it and going to make it a really good one. The best yet.

Wishing all of you health happiness and all the good stuff in 2011.

Long time no blog

2010-12-26T11:57:00.000-08:00

................

Narcissism and spandex

2010-02-06T00:37:00.000-08:00

I'm back? At least for now. But I can't make any promises about staying long because I'm afraid I'm on the verge of retiring. Does this happen to all bloggers I wonder?..... do they go through a honeymoon stage with blogging where life and thoughts and photo-op's and overall general health and happiness all revolve around their blog and then one day wake up feeling nothing less than narcissistically silly?

I mean who really cares (besides you mom-that's your job) how my day went, what I ate after weights, whether or not I flossed, how much I despise my coach when he has pms, how desperately I miss natural sunlight, how many times a day I dream about mexican chow, what I thought about Lady Gaga's getup at the Grammy's, or what life altering epiphanies hit me while I was taking my morning pee? Perhaps this is just some sort of unavoidable and imperative therapy to get me back on the wagon? But it is unsettling how self-absorbed I sometimes feel when I blog. I'm just saying.

Unfortunately, and as much as I may resent it, I have a eerie feeling I'll be back sooner than later to tell you all about some of that aforementioned nonsense. But probably mostly just about how passionately I hated Lady Gaga's (nightmarishly french cut) one piece.

Blah blog blah blog

2010-01-21T06:15:00.000-08:00

Dear you,

Thanks for stopping by to check up on my siberian scribbles but unfortunately I've recently been blindsided by a weighty lack of blogging inspiration..... I think I'll be back soon.

Heart, me

Introducing Wanda the Warrior

2010-01-06T13:00:00.000-08:00

I know you've all been losing sleep over hearing about my trip home for the holidays so here goes.... my trip back from Russia was long and umm for lack of a better word, sticky. In order to catch my flight I was told to sprint the second our 5 game marathon match ended to the taxi waiting outside that would speed me to the airport.....no time to shower, I asked?! No time to shower. (Curse word). Those of you that know me and my track record from my days at Stanford (where sleep and Facebook almost always took precedent) are scratching your heads right now thinking that traveling for almost 2 days straight sans shower would be no problem but you, my friends, will never believe me when I tell you I've changed... grown up and gone all hygienic on you. That's right I shower these days. Try that on for size.

I flew from Moscow to Amsterdam and Amsterdam to San Francisco and after almost 35 straight hours of travel I finally landed on US soil. My prayers were answered--my bag made it--and my two buddies Colby and Blair were waiting for me outside of baggage claim. Lots of hugs and catch-up and In-n-Out fries filled the next couple of hours before me and Blair had to catch a flight down south on virgin america which I'd never flown before and is the coolest airline ever by the way. Snuggled and gossiped with Blair the whole flight then got to LA where I finally got to see my boyfriendddddd after not having seen him for 2 months which made me so tremendously happy.

Next morning was spent blaring Zac Brown on the radio while trying to evade Hollywood traffic and once me and Tyler finally made it downtown, getting his russian visa all squared away. Later that afternoon we packed up and caught a flight to hypothermic Utah where we got to hang out with my family for the next few days which was SO WONDERFUL... I had missed them so much and on top of missing the hell out of them, I hadn't seen my big sis yet since she'd broke the news via skype video that she has a bun in the oven! It was so much fun I can't belieeeeveee I am going to be an auntie this spring, I'M SO EXCITED I am going to spoil Lolo's little rugrat silly. Being home with Tyler and my family was so lovely though, I was so genuinely happy every second of every day. I got to benefit from my mom's home cooking, take daily trips to Cafe Rio for lunch, battle my little brother in guitar hero (I lost, what's new), snuggle with the worlds coolest cat, and even take a trip up to Sundance ski resort because my extraordinary parents treated me and Tyler to the fanciest dinner either of us had ever had. And if you can imagine it getting any better than all that, it does. We had all our christmas decorations up (which always make me so happy) which combined with the fresh fallen snow, holiday music and numerous trips to the overcrowded mall for wish-list shopping made for the perfect dose of Christmas before I had to head back. I mean does it get any lovelier than all that?

Wednesday night of being home was the much anticipated First Annual Ugly Sweater Party which--as predicted--turned out to be a raging success. Tyler and I did some ugly sweater shopping earlier that day at Good Will where luckily they still let us purchase our sweaters even after we'd almost gotten kicked out for playing catch with the nerf football that practically took out their main light fixture.... Tyler's fault of course, his spiral is a little shoddy. Anyway. We got some pretty ugly numbers (mind had SHOULDER PADS) that we thought would let us compete for first place in the contest but little did we know Taylor Evans already had the whole competition in the bag. Why didn't I think of draping christmas tree limbs and flashing lights on top of my ugly sweater?

The party was a ton of fun, my darling cousins all came over decked out in the ugliest apparel in town and we proceeded to spent the majority of the night giggling. Highlight of the night was the white elephant where we all exchanged blows for gifts ranging from a Costco-sized pack of Depends diapers to my mom's high school senior picture (pure gold) that my favorite aunt Diane somehow managed to dig up from the 70's. Just for the record and not that this will come as a surprise to anyone but my mom was a major babe back then. Maybe if I keep my fingers crossed someday I'll be as pretty as her. Just after Lori's pic from her glory days was unveiled and no one thought that the gift options could get any better, Wanda the Warrior aka sauciest goldfish ever was unwrapped (PROPS GENNA). That's when pandemonium broke out, everyone trying to get a piece of the gift I CHOSE. I tried convincing Tyler to wrap Wanda up and put her in his carryon so we could take her to Russia but for some reason he wasn't having it. My dad temporarily adopted her until my big sis Lauren took full parenting responsibility later that night....and somehow miraculously more than 2 weeks later, Wanda has beaten all odds and is still with us today. She even got an accommodations upgrade last week, no kidding.

Because all the days were equally heavenly while home I'd hesitate to pinpoint one as the best but Thursday was exceptionally special. Thursday night was our family Christmas dinner and present exchange which was scheduled a week early so I could participate (!) so the day was spent running around picking up last minute gifts for everyone. My mom prepared a delectable turkey feast which we were all very thankful for, and soon after it was devoured all of us were uniformly draped all over the family room in a massive food coma. As I was curled up in Tyler's lap on the floor watching football surrounded by all the people I love the very most, I had an overwhelming feeling of appreciation for ummm.... my life. Sounds silly maybe but I really am so thankful for my family and the fact that I got to go home and spend time with them during the holidays. At half-time (and not one second sooner) the remote was seized from my baby brothers grasp and the TV turned off so we could open our presents before me and Tyler had to pack up to catch our midnight flight to Russia. Everyone got some really great gifts but the biggest hit was the teeny Santa outfit Tyler had bought from Build-a-Bear to gift to Lauren and Taylor so their +1 will have an outfit to wear to the family Christmas party next year. Tyler and I had split up earlier that day in a last minute panic to find something for them and when he came back with a bag full of Build-a-Bear apparel I almost lost it. Allegedly he'd never seen a Build-a-Bear store before and thought it was any old children's clothing store. How he managed to walk past the hundreds of stuffed bears not to mention the giant STORE NAME (that happens to be a bit literal) in life size block letters at the entrance is beyond me... hahaha

Post presents Tyler dragged me downstairs to help me finish packing... I'd started and then stopped the day before initiated some sort of unofficial strike against leaving so soon after I'd just arrived. After we'd finished, it was time to say goodbye to my family... and in case you were wondering, I'm still somehow so terrible at this. You'd think being a nomad and never stationary I'd have figured out by now how to do it but instead I just get soft and become a helpless and teary victim to it all. But then again thanks to the family disease I could probably be miserably residing in a 1940's communist Germany flying direct from there to Oahu and still somehow get nostalgic before my flight out about saying goodbye to the neighborhood Nazi's. Not my fault. Anyway me and Tyler said bye and after we gave everyone 89 bear hugs, we headed to the airport. And I promise I'd log all about our trip to Russia right now but I can't because it would take too long and my eyes are getting squinty.. so I'll leave with you some pictures that were taken by my talented big sis and be back to write more later. FAMILY if you're reading this, I miss you guys, thanks for those 5 days at home you guys are a dream.

Home for the holidays....

2010-01-06T12:50:00.000-08:00

The Christmas Day Banana Peel Affair

2009-12-26T09:28:00.000-08:00

AHHHHHHHH hi. I can't believe I'm about to publicly admit this but I've kinda missed blogging. The past 2 weeks have been the most hectic and most sleep deprived but most wonderful and most fun 2 weeks of my life. I spent 5 perfect days at home in Utah filled with little brothers aunts and uncles christmas dinners and ugly sweaters and then me and my boyfriend hopped on a plane to experience what will forever be known as the worst international travel trip ever (more details to come). Once finally back in Russia my team played in the Russian Cup semi's/finals but what's much more exciting is that Stacy signed with my team so I got to play with her again which was so (no really sooooooooooooooooo) much fun.

I'll to be back later with plenty of story-filled paragraphs and pictures to tell you all about going home, the Worst International Travel Trip Ever, Tyler's first trip to Russia, and the Russian Cup but right now all I want to talk about is CHRISTMAS! I hope you guys had a very merry one. I love Christmas.

This Christmas kinda snuck up on me. There was a lot going on here in Omsk as Tyler left the 23rd, me and Stacy had an all-star match Christmas Eve and our team played a league match Christmas day. It was non-stop madness... so mad that like I said-I kinda forgot it was Christmas until the evening of the 24th when Stacy suggested that we go buy some groceries so we would have some other products in our kitchen for Christmas besides the Kraft mac n' cheese I brought back from America and Stacy's secret stash of Reese's peanut butter cups. In case you're wondering, we got groceries but ended up ordering pizza anyway.

Christmas morning first thing Stacy and I did was exchange the gifts we'd gotten for eachother. I got a white bench towel that Stacy had stolen from the all-star match the night before and she got a pair of bright pink and green men's underwear I'd found at Walmart last week. We went to our serve and pass and everyone had forgotten that it was our Christmas except one of our ultra sweet teammates who had bought us both 4 lbs. of little russian chocolates wrapped up in the shape of a christmas tree. The chocolates were labeled in russian so trying to find one that when bitten into didn't erupt with controversial red sticky substance was quite a task and I eventually gave up and decided to give all the chocolate to my teammates to help them stay awake during film. On our way home, Stacy needed to go to the bank so we headed inside to exchange some of the cash she'd brought to Russia... after Stacy had given the banker the american dollars she wanted to exchange for russian rubles, the banker skeptically examined it under all-knowing purple lamp and told us that only about 50% of it was exchangeable. That the rest was fake currency. After Stacy confirmed that she wasn't trying to exchange play money, I kindly asked the stubborn russian banker woman to reconsider. Stubborn russian banker woman wasn't having it and kept accusing us of trying to exchange monopoly money so we finally gave up and when we did, fuming and ruble-less Stacy told me to tell stubborn russian banker woman we hated her and we hoped she'd have a terrible Christmas. I do whatever Stacy says so I smiled and said to her (in english) "thanks we'll find another bank, we hate you and we hope you have a terrible Christmas." She smiled back and had no idea what in the world I'd just said and both of us instantly dissolved into laughter. Eventually when we collected ourselves, we went home.

On our way home we had to cross a parking lot where I really (even ask Stacy) almost lost my life to a madman parking his car that saw me behind him...looked me straight in the eye...and yet continued to back up his car. Into my lap. And in general I admit I'm an exaggerator but I'm not when I say I almost lost my life. Or at least my left leg. Consequently, aforementioned madman became the second person me and Stacy told we hated and hoped would have a terrible Christmas?

Only a few hours later after our respective pre-game naps, we headed down to the team bus to go to our game. We were late (we always are) so we were running and you know those cartoon characters you see slip and dramatically fall on banana peels? It goes without words but it doesn't go without telling you that it flipping hurt. As I discovered the blood the fall had drawn from my right knee, I simultaneously discovered my "good friend" Stacy behind me--convulsively laughing--with the video camera out and already rolling. I played Siberian Scrooge for a few seconds and told her to get the camera out of my face but moments later couldn't help but burst out into uncontrollable laughter.... the giggles not stopping the entire 10 minute bus ride to the gym.

More funny stuff on Christmas: before our match, in the Christmas spirit, me and Stacy decided that any time we got a point or did something good we were going to yell "Merry Christmas!"...and every point we scored we came to the middle and obnoxiously cheered it as loud as we could. At first, all of our teammates were a little stunned (perhaps annoyed?) but it wasn't before long that they joined in too. Just imagine 5 russian (extremely professional) athletes in the heat of battle--none of which speak english or celebrate Christmas--all coming to the middle point after point energetically cheering "Merry Christmas!!!" loud enough that our head coach at one point asked what the (bad word) we were doing. HAHA maybe you're not laughing but trust me, it was hysterically funny. Anyways, after our game we went home, had a few teammates over and ordered pizza (classy Christmas dinner we know) and then my family called....

I'd been fine all day, only short-lived survivable moments of holiday sickness until then.....they were all crowded in the family room around the computer sleep deprived in their pj's with presents and stories from the night before. Those of you that know anything about me won't be surprised when I tell you I only lasted a pitiful 30 seconds before I started crying. Which made my sister start crying. And then my mom start crying. Told you it's a disease that runs in the family, I'm just a victim so stop judging.

So even though this wasn't a Christmas I'd dream up-if per se I could imagine the perfect one-it will definitely be one I will never forget. And if somehow in my hairless senile age I do, I'll have the scar on my right knee to show. Merry Christmas again everyone. I'm wishing you all the happiest of holidays.

All my blogging and North Pole love,
Kristin

PS: Watch out for invisible banana peels.

Israel, my friends, is a wonderful wonderful place

2009-12-12T23:39:00.001-08:00

My club shipped me to Israel to get a russian visa and when I got there, I had no plans, no friends, and no expectations. Tyler's friends that were going to hang out with me fell through and my coach told me that I had to rest while I was there crushing any wishful thinking I'd been doing about maybe seeing some of Israel's history. So after finally surviving the airport security scene (where they intimidatingly interrogated me about my itenerary for what seemed to be an eternity at one point casually asking me if anyone had given me a bomb) I caught a cab to my hotel and met the boss man who was helping me with my visa. He confiscated my passport and said my russian visa would be ready in 24 hours. I supposed this was the moment I'd be sentenced to my hotel room to rest--my coach's orders crossing borders to ruin my life. That's when boss man became boss angel man and asked me if I wanted to take a tour of Jerusalem and the Dead Sea the following day. Shocked and ecstatic I replied YES!!!! (restrained myself from bear-hugging boss angel man) and then he bought me my ticket.

After I told boss angel man I loved him I unpacked my stuff at my hotel, immediately threw on a bathing suit and flip flops and headed to the beach (Mediterranean sea!) that was approximately 30 steps from my hotel lobby. Not many people were out because it's "winter" in Israel. However there were a few courageous souls braving the hypothermic 75 degree weather fully equipped with sweatshirts and beanies....most of which were probably talking smack on me-the lunatic running around in shorts and a tank top. But once I told them I was from Russia, they understood. After I did some more wandering, I eventually decided to call it a night so I could rest up for the tour the next day but not before I swung the window wide open so I could sleep to the sound of the waves crashing across the street.

After the brutal 6 AM wake-up call came I packed a backpack, ate some mediocre coco puffs courtesy of the hotel's continental breakfast and waited for the tour pick-up. Looking back to what I was thinking that morning, I definitely knew that the day was going to be full of really neat experiences but I'm not sure I was expecting it to end up being one of the most inspirational and memorable days of my life. Here's how it went....

My tour guide's name was Aussie and he was a friendly Jewish man that spoke 8 different languages and wore this funny cowboy hat around the entire day. He was old and wrinkly and extremely witty and extremely smart. In my small tour group there were italians, spaniards, germans, swiss, one other american named Jonathan and me. I felt a little nervous at first about braving Israel's terrain alone without buddies but shook it off once I reminded myself that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and made friends. I got to speak my very rusty (sadly almost non-existent) italian with these 2 business men from Rome, spanish with some newly wed's from Madrid and even russian because once Aussie found out my story, he made me. Jonathan the other american guy was originally from Louisiana but now lives and teaches theology and old testament classes at a private university in Germany. He was rad, we became good buds. He was in Israel gathering research for a dissertation that's he is doing on the old testament and the life of Jesus Christ... so as you can imagine this guy knew it all. I kept firing nonstop questions at him throughout the 9 hours we were touring Jerusalem expecting him to at some point not be able to answer one but that just never happened....

First we drove from Tel Aviv east across the country to Jerusalem. On our way out of Tel Aviv Aussie told us a lot of really neat stuff about the city.

I learned:

-Tel Aviv is "ruled by the young generation" and nicknamed "the city that never sleeps"...because the young generation is working and partying around the clock and the old people can't hang. Aussie said that no one over the age of 40 lives there

-Tel Aviv is overloaded with modern bars, lounges, restaurants, and nightclubs to cater to aforementioned booming sleepless generation......apparently you can go to the nightclub at 10 PM or 10 AM and they'll process your requests identically.

-to buy an apartment in downtown Tel Aviv, it's 3 million bucks

-Tel Aviv is populated with a mere 500,000 people but 1.5 million commute in and out of the city every day for work. Can you imagine their rush hourrrrrr?

-Tel Aviv has the tallest building in the middle east, a center dedicated to diamonds

-Along with diamonds, advanced tech and tourism, agriculture plays an important part in Israel's economy but in the past few years the economy has taken a big hit because there has been a massive rain drought. Aussie told us that there is an Israeli prayer that goes something like this: "Dear God please give us some rain.....don't listen to the tourists."

When we got out of Tel Aviv we took Highway 445 which is a high way that divides Israel and Palestine. This highway runs east and west with Israel territory on the north side and Palestine territory on the south essentially dividing two worlds at war....on both sides of 445 there were guarded watchtowers sprinkled with guards and machine guns and huge electric fences to keep each other's people from trying to cross the border. There's no stopping, and there is no exiting. As you probably already know, because of holy war and in order to stop all the bloodshed, Israeli's can't go in or out of Palestine and Palistinian's can't go in or out of Israel.... Aussie said that the only reason that Palestinian's can enter Israel is for work, but due to the recent wave of suicide bombings, it's extremely difficult and almost impossible for a Palestinian to get a work visa. He said that in the past 500,000 Palestinian's worked in Israel and now only 30,000 do. Those 30,000 have to go through thorough military checks every morning on their way to work and get this... they have to ditch their cars at the border because in the past they used them to smuggle car bombs inside. Can you imagine not only having to deal with rush hour but having to ditch your car and have scary dudes with machine guns pat you down every morning on your way to work?? As we were cruising on the 445, Aussie was on the speaker telling us the detailed story of the holy war. He said that Muslims and Jews have been at war for a long time but only recently--with the ignition of suicide bombings--have things gotten out of hand. Aussie told us that there have been over 13,000 innocent Israeli deaths since 2000. He said that all the credit for the recent wave of suicide bombings goes to the young generation of muslims and explained that they are overly passionate and obsessive about sacrificing themselves "in the name of religion" because they believe that their parents and grandparents who fought this same war before them didn't fight hard enough... they didn't fight "until the last drop of their blood." At one point we drove past a Jewish university where 3 years ago a young muslim girl put a bomb in her backpack and set it off killing herself and 22 students. Seeing things like this I was overwhelmed with an incredibly sad feeling of disbelief.... I mean I've read and watched all about the ongoing war between these two gangs on the news but being there was a whole different deal.

Once we got closer to Jerusalem we exited 445 and headed to Old City Jerusalem. Before we entered the gates, we drove to one of the highest points in Jerusalem where a breathtaking panoramic view of the entire city was waiting for us. Right in front of my eyes there it all was. Mount Moriah where King Soloman's temple was built, and the place where it is believed that Adam and Eve were born and where Abraham was asked to crucify his son. The Garden of Gethsemene, where Jesus went after being judged for the first time to atone for the sins of all mankind. Via Dolorosa, the street within the Old City to be believed as the pathway Jesus took carrying the cross on the way to His crucifixion. The Holy Sepulcre and Calvary....the place where Jesus was crucified and then buried. And Mount Olive, where after Jesus was resurrected, he spent 40 days before he was lifted up to the heavens. Standing there seeing all of this, as you can imagine, was a moment I will never forget. I was completely saturated in emotion.... and this was just the start.

In order to get down to the gates of the Old City, we drove down Mount Olive....where we saw dozens and dozens of olive trees that Aussie said were more than 2,000 years old! Just before we got to the gates towards the bottom of Mount Olive, we stopped at the Garden of Gethsemene--but only for a moment because there were too many tourists there so we weren't allowed in (that's at the top of my list for when I go back). Something I thought was kinda cool: right above Gethsemene to the right there is a beautiful russian church that was built specifically in that place because russians believe that is the last place Jesus Christ was before he was lifted up to the heavens. I didn't get the chance to see it but Aussie said inside the church there is a gold footprint that is believed by russians to be Jesus' last. Finally we arrived at 1 (of the 8) gates surrounding the Old City...security to enter was predictably heavy. 5 feet from the entrance there was this giant steel (?) machine that served the purpose of disposing things that are thought to be explosives. Aussie said that if anything looks even mildly suspicious security confiscates it and carefully transports it to the machine to blow it up underground. Nuts right? That's serious stuff.

For those of you who haven't been, the Old City is split up into 4 different quarters; the christian quarter, jewish quarter, muslim quarter, and armenian quarter. Inside the city is the famous wailing wall ("wall of tears") and all the things I mentioned already (Via Dolorosa, King Soloman's temple, Calvary and The Holy Seplechure). The first thing we saw after walking for only a few minutes was the wall of tears. There were people scattered all across the wall....muslims, christians, mormons, jews, blacks, italians, atheists, whites, catholics, americans, russians. Some were singing, some were dancing, some were crying, others reading. Lots were on their knees. A longstanding tradition at the wall of tears is for people to write down their wishes on a piece of paper and then stuff them in the cracks of the wall.....and twice a year all the crumpled up prayers of the world are collected from the wall and taken to be buried on Mount Olive. They are buried there because many believe that Mount Olive is the place where Jesus is going to return to earth for the second coming, and they want their prayers to be waiting for Him at His feet. Such a beautiful concept. I spent a good amount of time at the wall trying to take it all in... I really loved it there because I felt such a strong and connective spirit of love... so many different types colors cultures and groups of people all passionately praising the same guy. So cool.

After the wall of tears we walked through the muslim quarter that was packed full of people eating drinking and celebrating something, I never found out what. But lots of happy people dancing and lots of wonderful spices permeating the air. On our way out, Aussie took us to this juice stand where 2 kind muslim men were making fresh squeezed pomegranate juice and explained that muslims believe the pomegranate to be the "holy fruit" because it has 613 seeds and the Torah has 613 commandments. (613 commandments is a lot of commandments). Anyway I of course tried the holy fruit juice and it was so good! A little later, we stopped and ate lunch in the jewish quarter where I had some authentic "sharma," some (more) pomegranate juice, and got talked into trying Arabian coffee. I don't even like coffee, but after my know-it-all buddy Jonathan told me the history of the Arabs and their coffee, I had to try it. The day continued to get more and more exceptional but really peaked when Aussie took us to the beginning of Via Doloroso and we got to follow the pathway visiting every one of the 14 stations that Christ stopped at along the way to His crucifixion.... Aussie told us that every Friday (Friday was the day that Jesus was crucified) here in the Old City, there is a jewish tradition where people get together and take a cross and carry it from station to station along the Via Dolorosa retracing Christ's steps his last day in Jerusalem. What a beautiful way to remember Him. I remember once we got inside the christian quarter, I could see the top of the dome of the Holy Sepulchre.... I could feel my already stirring emotions start to shift even more. How is one even expected to manage seeing and experiencing the place where Jesus was once crucified and buried? It's hard for me to articulate my experience once I was inside....but it was extraordinary and wondrous and spiritual and amazing and emotional and humbling. It truly may have been the most impactful 30 minutes of my life.... I will never forget my experience in Old City Jerusalem. It has so much history and in general exudes so much spirit and splendor and strength. I learned so much about Jesus and His life and am especially thankful that my faith in and relationship with Him both had the opportunity to be strengthened. I don't care who you are or what you believe in, I advise EVERYONE at some point to GO TO JERUSALEM and see this stuff. It will change your life.

When our tour of Jerusalem was over, our tour group sadly had to split up.... half of us went to Bethlehem (where I really wanted to go but couldn't because it's Palestinian territory so you need your passport and boss angel man had mine doing russian visa stuff) and a few of us went to the Dead Sea. And by a few I mean just me and the human Google Jonathan. So me and Jonathan hopped in a banging mercedes provided by the tour company and headed to the Dead Sea. On our way as we were driving through the Judean desert our driver asked us if we wanted to take a 5 minute detour to see what he said was his favorite view.... of course we said yes so he proceeded to take us off-road for a few minutes until we arrived at a terrifying cliff overlooking millions of miles of desert. It really was a spectacular sight... one of those things you try to photograph in order to capture but it just doesn't work. For unknown reasons there were these two fierce (and in retrospect a bit terrifying?) Arabian men hanging out on this cliff with a camel (that was literally in the middle of nowhere?)...and as we were approaching them in the car, the driver told me and Jonathan to whatever we do, NOT ride the camel--it wasn't registered, unauthorized, we'll find another camel that's registered, blah blah OKKK we won't ride it we both said--and at the time I meant it. But when I got out of the car and was immediately overtaken by the ridiculous landscape and then turned around to this Arabian man batting his eyes and holding his camel on a leash asking me if I wanted to ride, how could I have said no? After I said yes, the batty-eyed Arabian man smiled so big--revealing the mere 5 teeth that occupy his entire oral cavity--I thought he was going to burst. And as my driver and Jonathan stood shaking their heads in the distance, up and on the unauthorized camel I went. The ride was terrifying. I almost summersaulted off when the camel stood up and then once we were up, he almost ran us off the cliff. In retrospect I maybe think it was one of the dumber things I've ever done but absolutely don't regret it because after all, who in the world gets to ride an unauthorized camel in the Judean desert?

We continued on our journey to the Dead Sea and as predicted, a lecture from our driver ensued about how dangerous that was....how I could have been hurt etc etc etc. I guess just concerned for my safety and worried about ohhh preserving my life. We drove another 20 minutes to the Dead Sea passing the oldest city in the history of the world, Jericho, and after passing numerous signs announcing that the we were 300 meters below sea level, finally arrived. Fun fact: did you guys know that the Dead Sea is the lowest inhabited place on earth at almost 450 meters below sea level?? Fun fact #2: did you know that people come from all over the world to get their hands on some of the minerals the Dead Sea has to offer? Jonathan told me his friend from Germany has a rare skin disorder that doctors haven't been able to cure but one of his doctors prescribed him to go to the Dead Sea once a year and bathe for 2 weeks and amazingly enough, it's the only thing that contains the disease. SO unbelievable. Anyway once we arrived, me and Jonathan got in our bathing suits and headed into the water. I'd heard lots of debatable things about the Dead Sea prior to this.... and secretly believed people didn't actually float. I was quickly proven wrong as I walked into the water and practically face planted, the salt water forcing my feet, legs, and entire lower half (all things that were once perpendicular to the ground) parallel. I seriously JUST FLOATED. I couldn't believe it. After I JUST FLOATED some more, I unfortunately did the cliche thing that every tourist does and took a picture of me floating reading a magazine......and it was after that I discovered the mineral mud. Like I said I was JUST FLOATING the entire time so my feet never touched the bottom so it wasn't until I floated my way to the shore and made contact with the ground that I noticed the bizarre color and texture of the mud that constitutes the entire bottom layer of the sea. It's slimy and dark black and I don't think anyone in their right mind that didn't know it's full of top-of-the-line minerals would ever consider rubbing it all over themselves..... after I smeared this extremely strange gooey mineral goodness all over my body, I JUST FLOATED some more trying to take in all in. An hour ago I had ridden a camel in the Judean desert and now I was covered in mud magically floating on water. And get this. While I had been in the sea it had started to rain a little bit and you're not going to believe me when I tell you what appeared on my way out but I promise I'm not making it up. A rainbow. I mean can you guys believe that? I stopped then and there in my tracks and said my 74th prayer of the day thanking God for an unnecessary but greatly appreciated perfect end to a perfect day...... a day that I will never ever (ever ever) forget.

PICS OF ISRAEL.

2009-12-12T22:44:00.000-08:00

I have no idea why ^ that space is there and I can't get rid of it I give up BLOGGER YOU SUCK, ok enjoy the pics.

--Panoramic view of Old City Jerusalem. That's Mount Olive and Gethsemene my left and the gated city with Via Dolorosa and The Holy Seplechure to my right--

--The Garden of Gethsemene and in the top right hand corner the russian church I told you about--

--Outside the gates of the Old City--

--The wall of tears--

--613 seeds of the "holy fruit"--

--Spices in the muslim quarter--

--Me and my bud Jonathan drinking Arabian coffee--

--The whole group. See Aussie with the cowboy hat, told you--

--Aussie!--

--The beginning of Via Dolorosa--

--Beautiful churches in the christian quarter--

--Outside Calvary/The Holy Seplechure--

--On my way in. These doors date all the way back to the christian crusades--

--The Holy Seplechure--

--Where it is believed that Jesus was laid after his crucifixion to be prepared to be buried--

--Beautiful sights around Old City--

--Batty-eyed Arabian man and his crazed camel--

--Before of after we almost fell off the cliff--

--Cliche tourist pic @ the Dead Sea--

--Mineral mud!!--

Before I join the orchestra I'm going to learn hebrew and study old testament theology

2009-12-07T12:44:00.000-08:00

There really are no words to describe how amazing my trip to Israel was. I HAVE SO MUCH TO TELL YOU GUYS.

Stay tuned.

Crap, now I want to join the orchestra.

2009-12-04T06:57:00.000-08:00

The orchestra was so legit you guys. I am so happy that I decided to go. At one point during the performance, as I was watching all these different people perform with all their different instruments somehow collectively creating what was the prettiest sounding thing I'd maybe ever (?) heard, I had a surprisingly potent moment charged with appreciation and mystification for the existence of music. Maybe its the sleep depravation but maybe it's not and maybe we really do take the miracle of music for granted. I mean music is so cool. The violin is breaktakingly beautiful and how it produces such wonder by way of a long stick gliding up and down a bunch of strings I don't understand. Plus the flute? And the tuba? Blowing into a strangely shaped pieces of brass? How do those breaths turn into notes? Don't even get me started on the harp. These people and their talents blew me away. This guy who couldn't have been older than 21 played the piano without taking a break for 35 solid minutes. Without sheet music to cheat off of. Without sheet music to cheat off of!!!! And the way he performed it, he made it look like such a cinch.. like if he would've felt like it, he could've played for 35 minutes one handed with his eyes closed, the other hand tied behind his back juggling fireworks. I don't know about you but if I'm playing the piano for 35 minutes straight without sheet music, first of all I forget 3 minutes in what I'm supposed to be playing minutes 4-35 blowing the entire number for everyone and second of all, both my hands are involuntarily paralyzed by incapacitating cramps. I used to play duets at piano recitals when I was young and I remember my fingers getting tired after like 4 stanzas. I'm honestly so interested to know how one attains such jaw-dropping finger stamina? Finger strength and conditioning classes? I mean have you guys ever thought about this stuff? Probably not I get it, I am on a strange rant right now but I'm entitled to strange rants because this is my diary after all. And the director. Remarkable what an average looking guy can do when he stands on a stool and waves a fancy wand around. We gave him and his wand-waving skills 8, count em 8 encores. The show itself was 2 hours but it ended up being almost 3 because we as an audience apparently couldn't get enough. He really was such a sweet man though... kept gracefully leaving the stage to be eventually lured back by our stubborn applause for yet another (and another and another) number. After the show tons of little kiddies ran up to the stage and gave the director bright bouquets of colorful flowers which he promptly passed on to scattered members of his crew. Not an empty seat in the concert hall, standing ovations and lots of teary eyes I think it's safe to say the orchestra's first trip to Siberia was a success. I didn't cry (a small miracle taking into account my history with the arts) but I really did love it.

We've got a game tomorrow night against Belgorod which is the team I played for my first year in Russia so I got to see lots of old friends today, it made me so happy. When I saw them before our training as they were all leaving, they all sprinted over to me and greeted me with big hugs and kisses and of course made fun of my chipped black nail polish and disheveled ponytail telling me that "I haven't changed one bit"... whenever I have moments like this when I get to see old friends that I have played with or against in Russia I am reminded why I keep coming back to this place....

Lots of love people... maybe I won't be able to write home for a while because I'm headed to Israel then usaaaaaaaaa

Happy Wednesday amigos

2009-12-02T11:27:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I'm back blogging again. I'm on fire, really not sure what's gotten into me.

Today was awesome because.
-when I woke up and googled mormon churches in Omsk (because I had a nightmare where the woman I met turned out to be off her rocker) I found out that they actually exist (!)
-I got to spend my morning stepping up to the techno version of the Mamma Mia soundtrack
-I got to see my handsome boyfriend on video skype
-my mom emailed me
-I found my hairbrush! It's been MIA for a week (no exaggeration)
-Erica told me she's sending me a christmas package!
-I got to tan for longer than 4 minutes and 33 seconds

-my good friend Marina came over and gave me a russian language lesson

-I ate frozen raspberries and blackberries for dinner

-I got to watch a brand spanking new episode of So You Think You Can Dance

-I got a looooooong overdue pedicure while diving into my kindle
-when I was at the pool I got to witness a world-class bellyflop

Today sucked because.
-I had to spend my morning stepping up to the techno version of the Mamma Mia soundtrack
-at practice I got lectured in russian because I served before my coach blew the whistle (we all think he's menstruating)
-the USA anti-doping agency wasted 2 hours of my time (I don't take steroids to play volleyball I promise can't you just take my word for it?)
-I came to the harsh realization that I really can't put off shaving my legs any longer
-my good friend Marina came over and gave me a russian language lesson

-when I was sitting in the steam room minding my own business a hairy russian man the shape of Jaba the Hut tried to get my number

Attempted deep thought of the day: being overseas is so cool. A lot of people say it sucks and its crappy food and its Siberiaaaa and its scratchy toilet paper and its (fill in the blank with a complaint of your choice), but I really believe it's all about perspective and having a good attitude....about choosing to be positive even when things like getting hit on by Jaba the Hut happen. Being overseas there really are a million little things that happen in a day that can be looked at as either positive or negative... I know I for one am certainly guilty of getting sucked into the deceitfully unfulfilling negative regime. But we have to somehow remember the big picture because at the end of the day we are living in foreign countries, getting to travel all over the world, and getting paid to play the silly game of volleyball for goodness sakes. As long as you've got your health (accompanied by a bottle of Ibuprofen), internet so you can talk to your fam and buddies, and a cool boyfriend who puts up with your occasional (and predictable) mood swings....you're set.

I kinda can't believe I've already been here for 2 months. Cakewalk so far.

Cool Stuff Report

2009-12-01T10:49:00.000-08:00

~I just found out that I am going to Israel this Sunday for 4 days!? My Russian visa expires at the end of this month so I have to get issued a new one....the original plan was for me to get it done when I come back to America for the holidays (December 13!!!!!!) but apparently the Russian consulate in SF can't do it fast enough and Israel has some sort of shady agreement with Russia so they can issue it in 24-48 hours..... so off to Israel I get shipped. I am really excited a) because I get to miss 4 days of practice (is that unethical?) and b) because I get to go to Israel! I don't know if I'll have the time, proper currency or resources to see any of the sites, but I'd realllllly love to. For those of you guys who don't know, Tyler (not sure if I have properly introduced him? he is my cool dude boyfriend) played professionally in Israel last season so he has lots of buddies there that are going to hang out with me while I'm there. Awesome, right?

~I guess volley-talk is appropriate on here every once in a while.... every year in Russia there is a tournament (not part of our regular season) in Nov-Dec called the Russian Cup for all the teams here to compete in to see who can vie with the best of the best. This past weekend we hosted preliminary rounds and went undefeated which means we made it to the final four (!) that's played December 20-24. I guess my team hasn't made it to the finals in years so everyone around here is really pumped. Go us?

~I bought a $65 dollar ticket to see the Moscow orchestra perform this upcoming Thursday! I wasn't sold on the idea of going until my teammates bragged that this particular orchestra is one of the "world's greatest" and all their shows in Moscow and St. Petersburg are always sold out. They also told me that this is the first time the orchestra has ventured to Siberia for a performance.... which means I'm going to be a part of Siberian history. Who knew....

~I went with one of my teammates yesterday afternoon to the "kino" (movie theatre) to see New Moon. In Russian. Without subtitles. When my teammate called and asked if she should buy me a ticket, I said yes because I thought it sounded fun. After I hung up, not even 30 seconds had passed before it hit me that I'd just committed myself to spending 2+ hours listening to vampires shoot the shit in russian. Interesting choice. Before the film started, I smuggled a large pepsi and popcorn inside and then quietly predicted to my teammate that I'd probably understand a whopping 7% of what was going on.....you'll be relieved to know I ended up surprising us both by understanding 8. Alright that was an exaggeration, I actually surprised myself and understood a pretty good amount but sheeeeeeeeeeeeesh my brain hurt afterwards.

~Remember I told you that this weekend we had the preliminary rounds of the Russian Cup? My really good friend from USA volleyball Katie O. was in town because we played her team..... so we got to hang out and have slumber parties all weekend which was so much fun. After the tournament was over one of my teammates had all of us over to her house for an amazingly delicious feast....I guess you could call it our pseudo-Thanksgiving. During dinner when everyone was eating, story-telling, laughing and cheers-ing, I had one of those moments that I have once in a while here where I looked around and felt so thankful for the wonderful friends and people that I am surrounded by. I know it's anti-stereotype but I'm here to tell you first-hand that russians have such wonderful and strong family traditions and really do ooze warmth and love once you get to know them. Anyway it was so wonderful. And I know I've used that word three times in the same paragraph but it's the only one that fits. Back to Katie. It was also so great to have her around because I got to speak American english again. (For those of you who have lived in a foreign country you know exactly what I'm talking about). For those of you who don't, what inevitably happens to you when you go overseas and are surrounded by people who can't speak (American) english is that you... talk.... sentence.... like.... this. And consequently when your mom calls, you forget mid-conversation how to form a complete sentence.

~Yesterday I started planning the First Annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party for my family and our cousins. You can check out the invitation here. It wasn't until after I'd spent over 45 minutes browsing varying websites reading up on ugly sweater party tips (?), watched this video on youTube 4 times laughing harder every time, and spent $45 on edible christmas glitter and other cookie decorating materials that it registered that maybe I'm taking it all too far. But then I quickly realized that was a silly thought and that a First Annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party deserves all that hype and more. Maybe I need to buy some more edible glitter.

~Get ready for the coolest of all the cool stuff that I am here to report. Yesterday I found out that there is a LDS church here in Omsk (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) I don't know quite how to express how happy and excited and blessed and (happy and excited and more blessed) I feel. I have played in Russia almost 3 years now and traveled to over 30 different cities to compete all over this country and never once have seen a Mormon church or met a missionary. And yesterday I found out that there is not only 1....or 2.... but THREE churches in my city. That is located in Siberia. (Just a reminder for those of you who don't think it's that crazy). How it happened was I met this really sweet humble woman who just became a member 2 years ago (via missionaries here) at the health club I was telling you guys about a while back... she introduced herself and asked where I was from. When I told her I was from Salt Lake City she got this really sadly romantic look on her face and then told me it's always been her dream to take her youngest daughter to SLC to see the LDS temple during December to see all the christmas lights....when she asked if I was mormon and I said yes, she smiled, waited a second and then told me that they had LDS churches here in Omsk. The moment she told me that, I stood up and hugged this woman I'd known for no longer than 4 minutes with tears streaming down my face. I can't wait to go. What a beautiful blessing. God is good.....told you.

The case for vitamin D

2009-11-30T02:43:00.000-08:00

Vitamin D is obtained from sun exposure, food and supplements, is biologically inert and must undergo two hydroxylation reactions to be activated in the body. Vitamin D plays an important role in overall health and more specifically in the maintenance of several organ systems. Its major role is to increase the flow of calcium into the bloodstream. Without sufficient vitamin D, bones can become thin, brittle, or misshapen. Vitamin D plays a number of other roles in human health including inhibition of calcitonin release from the thyroid gland which has a lot of functions but two of the most important are immune function and inflammation reduction. Among many factors that may be responsible for vitamin D's apparent beneficial effect is its effect on telomeres and its potential effect on slowing aging. Recent studies have indicated that vitamin D sufficiency may play a role in preventing age-related diseases.

Now that that's all been established (thank you all-knowing Wikipedia) I can unabashedly tell you that I went tanning today. I was merely just trying to get my hands on some of that inflammation-reducing disease-fighting vitamin D (you can't blame me, can you?) because turns out here at the Siberian Pole it isn't so easy to come by. Erica you know what I'm talking about. Finding sunlight here is about as probable as finding a Siberian gent at the club not overconfidently sporting a pair of skinny jeans and a mullet.

I've been to a few Russian tanning beds in my day (not for a bronze but in attempt to slow the aging process of course) and the ordeal never fails to amuse me. It doesn't matter where you go, all the women in charge are like lunatic nazi women. You'd think because the tanning bed system in place is the more minutes the more money, they'd sell minutes like my idol Pretty Woman sold her bod to Richard Gere back in the 90's. But instead, these women act as if they themselves are the reigning chief officers of the skin cancer police. Every time you go--no matter how hard you grapple--they inescapably end up making your decisions for you. When you tell them the amount of time you want to tan for, they skeptically eyeball you from head to toe to inspect your existing skin tone (but somehow it feels more like they are inspecting the quality of your soul?) and then--in my case unfailingly every time--tell you in a very condescending fashion that you aren't tan enough to tan for those 8 measly minutes you so desperately wanted. So feeling unavoidably defeated, you tan for your dictated 4 minutes and 33 seconds knowing full well you're not going to get an ounce of color and on your way out, pay them their 6 rubles. I leave just as pale and they leave just as poor. Who wins?

How could I forget about my favorite wedding crasher?

2009-11-27T23:41:00.000-08:00

Along with mexican food, guitar hero, san francisco and the rest of it, I'm also very thankful for Vince Vaughn.

Vince, even though you'll probably never read this, I'll go ahead and declare my love for you anyway. I love you. Thanks a million for always making me laugh so hard.

And Owen, you're most likely reading this feeling upset, dejected, and not as funny. Keep your head up. I love you too. You're a close second to my man Vince.

My thanks(giving) hangover

2009-11-27T10:03:00.000-08:00

some of the other stuff I'm thankful for-

skype . mexican food . snow . sleepovers . music . ELK . stanford . uggs . my usa volleyball girls . snickers ice cream bars . my north face socks . ibprofin . service opportunities . life savers . cabo . rain . st petersburg . road trips . san francisco . snowmobiling . ugly christmas sweaters . green tea and raspberries . sykobarbchards . the scriptures . donald miller . project runway . theme parks . podcasts . the ice age series . my kindle . wifi . vitamin C . lake powell . HD tv . urban outfitters . sincerity . flowers . dance parties . team tres . christmas . oversized hoodies . hope . forgiveness . summer . JJ's advice . lulu lemon and the length of their pants . super bowl commercials . manhattan beach . when tyler knows and sings every lyric to every country song . sleeping in . my wingman . old journals . chocolate, duh . g-chat . laughing till my stomach hurts . family get togethers . the zac brown band . sunsets . circus soleil shows . playing dress up once in a while . spa days . game nights . weekend vegas trips . the cheesecake factory . barcelona . old friends . new friends . weddings . karoke . brian regan . breakfast for dinner . baskin robbins mint chocolate chip . new years resolutions . southwest airlines . fresh squeezed orange juice . grey's anatomy . photography . cousins . grass volleyball . birthday dinners . mid-day naps . my toothbrush . the beach . my BFBF . calculators . guitar hero .

Hem your blessings with thankfulness so they don't unravel

2009-11-26T11:16:00.000-08:00

some of the many things I'm thankful for
-my mom's strength
-my dad's work ethic
-my big sister's example
-my amazing little bro's
-my boyfriend for loving me so absolutely
-my friends because they are the best
-my health
-opportunity
-prayer
-grace and Jesus Christ

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thorton Wilder

On Thanksgiving day we acknowledge our dependence. ~William Jennings Bryan

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them. ~JFK

The thing I'm most thankful for right now is elastic waistbands. ~Unknown

Nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart. ~Seneca

On Thanksgiving day, all over America, families sit down to dinner to give thanks at the same moment-halftime. ~Unknown

God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds a day. Have you used 1 to say thank you? ~William Ward

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder. ~G.K Chesterton

Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving. ~W.T. Purkiser

We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude. ~Cynthia Ozick

Thanksgiving is the one occasion each year when gluttony becomes a patriotic duty. ~Michael Dresser

I love Thanksgiving turkey. It's the only time in Los Angeles that you see natural breasts. ~Arnold Schwarzenegger

Thanksgiving was never meant to be shut up in a single day. ~Robert Caspar Litner

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity. It turns a meal into a feast, a house into a home, and a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace to the present and creates hope for the future. ~Melody Beattie

.....I hope all of you have a happy Thanksgiving.... what a cool holiday. Family, food, football and thanks... doesn't get much better than that.

--lots of love from this side of the globe--

Elvis gets a shout out in Russia

2009-11-25T11:41:00.000-08:00

I just got back the day before yesterday from a road trip where I got the (insert good attitude here)....opportunity to take a 14 hour train ride. Twice. Trains are interesting things you know. Especially when they exist in Russia because they install these unforgiving heaters that work so effectively that the entire time you're on the train you are essentially fighting off a heat stroke. And if you're me and you don't pull rank, you get demoted to the top bunk. And heat rises. I took Tylonel PM so I could sleep and instead I just sweat. For 14 hours. Twice.

The good news is I shared a train car (that's what they are called right?) with some of my very favorite teammates so we got to be sweaty and miserable together.... none of us could sleep because of the heat holocaust so we stayed up through the night talking and playing games (Sudoku tournament) and looking at pictures. It was so sweet they all kept asking me about my family and friends, if I'd been to Las Vegas??? and what "the O.C." was like.... (so don't let this go to your head but many of you that occupy space in my iPhoto are now famous here).....and to my mom.... they all thought you were beautiful.

Before I keep rambling, I promised my mom that I would post more pictures so after I'm done rambling you can see some of the stuff I'm rambling about. But I'm not done rambling.

After we got home from the trip, me and my teammate went to this wonderful health club that she introduced me to (that after spending 2 seconds inside of I fell in love with). It's suuuuch a cool place. It's got a gorgeous pool (and aqua classes!), a sassy spa, steam room, sauna, lounge area reeking with divine smelling incense, massages and cosmetic procedures for sale, tanning bed (but I'd of course never use that), a gym and any kind of step up or cardio class your Siberian heart desires. It's probably not actually that cool, maybe it's just like your standard upscale gym in America, but I'm not in America. I'm in Russia. And who knew they believed in institutions that support health and happiness? I take that back, turns out I actually kind of like this country and there are so many happy people that I know here so I shouldn't say something like. But I already typed it and I'm too lazy to go back and delete so it stays. Anyway it's really awesome...my temporary heaven. Until of course I get to go home and Cafe Rio gets thrown back in the mix.

Something else I want to tell you guys about while I've monopolized your attention.... it's called "banya." It's an extremely (insane but very) popular Russian tradition that takes place in the sauna. They take branches and leaves from white birch--which is supposedly is some sort of herbal phenomenon--and bundle a bunch of it together and then take it (and you) into the scorching hot sauna....you lay down while they wave this mysterious bouquet around in the air collecting ummm extreme hotness, and then they nicely beat the crap out of you with it. (It supposedly improves circulation and overall health). After your beating is over, you're supposed to run outside in your swimsuit and jump in and roll around in the snow. It's nuuuutttsss. I promise you the first year I was here and our team did this, I went into some sort of subdued shock...I couldn't believe it. And somehow now it's something that I love look forward to and miss when I'm not here. IT WORKS. I think the white birch is probably made of magic. Russians and their sorcery......

During my team's "banya," my two nutty assistant coaches are in charge.....and to help you create a visual so this story doesn't end up being one of those 'good story, guess you had to be there' 's....one of them is almost 7 feet tall, sports a killer mustache, and one of the funniest people I've ever met. The other isn't as jumbo, but just as funny....favorite part about him is his smile because he shamelessly sports it even though he doesn't have either of his 2 front teeth. Around the clock the 2 of them act like adolescent teenage boys but today during banya they were really terrificly in their element. Both parading around the sauna singing an invented duet version of "I ain't nothin but a hound dog." In their speedos. It was outstanding, they knew every word. And FYI, besides Elvis's lyrics, neither of them know a single word of english. HAHA singing toothless giants in speedos. I love them so I can make fun of them. That's how it works right?

As promised, documentation of it all.........

Jen Joines and nostalgia

2009-11-19T10:38:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't know her, her name is JJ. She's the best. We played together here last season and because of that, everything reminds me of her.

A lot of you know a little about the hysterical setup we had last year that, in retrospect, was by no means survivable. For those of you that don't, I'll give you the run down. Jen and I signed contracts last October and eager and excited to play together, we flew to Russia. We arrived and were driven to our hotel (that looked more like some sort of correctional facility).... and FYI we had no clue that this place was going to be our permanent Inferno. Whoops I mean residence. We had no idea that this place was going to be our permanent residence because we of course were told by our honest and upstanding agent that we'd be living glamorous lives in our own fully furnished apartments. Soon after our arrival, we were introduced our "translator." First thing we asked our "translator" (translator being an relatively loose term due to the fact that our "translator" had the english speaking skills of a first grader, bless his heart) was whether or not we had internet.........(picture me and Jen holding our breath while everything from our happiness to our long-distance relationship sustainability hangs in the balance)...........no internet. No internet?! While everything in my world came crashing down, the "translator" could be heard somewhere in the background noise telling us that we apparently train in Moscow but play our games 2 million miles away in Siberia.....so we'd be on the road every weekend. (Something else our agent conveniently forgot to mention while we were signing contracts). Said "translator" continues to try to explain that every time we get back from a road trip, we check in to a new room. So if you can take a second and imagine me and JJ in that moment. We're desperately and unsuccessfully trying to cope with the no-internet-bomb that was just dropped on us, and then our "translator" tells us that we're going to be living out of our suitcases for the next 6 months. Swear word. Can you imagine never being able to call an underwear drawer yours? There's more.

Our Inferno was a center "dedicated to health and rehabilitation" so the cool thing was that it was overflowing with cute old grandmas and grandpas wobbling around taking care of each other. But how can a place pride themselves in health when me and JJ had silverfish swimming in our sink? And speaking of bathroom filth, Jen and I would have to run the shower water for 2 solid minutes before it turned from brass to clear. And because we were Inferno residents (without a kitchen in our room and the closest store was a 10 minute taxi ride away) the only food we ate was the food that they served us in the cafe. At first we were innocent optimistic and hungry.... and then we had our first meal. If you can picture the most unappetizing serving of lunchroom slops you've ever seen and then multiply it by at least 2, you've got in your head what we were dictated to eat for breakfast lunch and dinner. And in case you can't help but wonder, the first place ribbon for the grossest "I want to throw up in my mouth I can't believe they expect us to eat that WAIT why are all our teammates eating it" dish went--without competition--to meat jello. Day after day we'd go straight from practice to yet another horrific unsatisfying meal..... forced to eat chai and sugar packets for dinner because it was the only edible thing available. For a majority of the season I think the both of us were in some sort of comedic shock--everything was so horrendously unbelievable it was funny--so the reality of our situation never fully hit us. But as it does wherever you're playing overseas, time started to drag....and the hard days surfaced. Me and Jen would take turns temporarily giving up....collapsing on the bed to cry. But if one was down the other was up... there to save the day with a walk to blow off steam or a bag of McDonalds takeout..

As you can see there were a million plus reasons why last season should have been an awful experience....but I can honestly say that I had maybe the most fun 6 months of my life. So here's to those 6 months, to surviving.....we had some of the crappy days, but we had more of the good ones. Here's to daily BFF sleepovers. And to endless hours spent talking about the important stuff. Here's to muddy Uggs and homemade fireworks. And to side pony tails and cappuccino pong. Here's to stealing toilet paper. And to seeing a human elf at the supermarket. Here's to laughing, often. Here's to crying, often. Here's to Dima's mullet and Brace-face's english. To Dr. Laura in all her sass. To Prager. To spell-chek. To The Russian Grump, Cosmo, and the rest of em'. To the cast of Weeds, LB, and Heidi and Spencer....they are all so fieeeeeeerce. To x's and o's. Here's to your advice (the best on the market). To saving Mary Poppins and our 9-5. To british accents when no one else thought we were funny. To the hair flip. To falling off the top bunk. To the elevator never working. To getting hit on by old Russian men with no game. Here's to eating your cup o'noodle with tweezers because we didn't do the dishes. Here's to Awesome Borsch Tamas and his first pair of underwear. Here's to the "weekly update" and how hard it made us laugh. Here's to silverfish? Here's to Snickers stealing my favorite pink Nike shorts. Here's to bumpy bus rides, being carsick, and Beeline. Here's to making fun of people who have blogs. To Filo getting his first makeover. Here's to our countdown calender. To never actually making it to the Moscow zoo. Here's to C-Tup and T-tup. To planning an unforgettable bachelorette in Vegas. To bread, salt, and olive oil. Here's to our dance parties. To Imogen Heap. Here's to winning 3 games the entire season and somehow still getting paid. Here's to Fema's attempt at running an offense. Here's to the "side-step." To Sergie and to bridal bootcamp. To Dima in a speedo? Here's to "flowers on Wednesdays." Here's to endless hours spent planning your perfect wedding. And to the day you asked me be in it. To friendship.

Here's to us somehow secretly having a blast in Russia last year. Love you Jtup.

Real talk about floss

2009-11-15T10:22:00.000-08:00

So I've been meaning to write for the last 2 days but I've been sick... sore throat, runny nose, cough... the whole nine yards. I think maybe I've got the Russian swine. Or more properly pronounced the Russian SVINE. (Erica you're contagious...at least we can Nordic-ly SVINE together I guess). Anyways I feel like crap (don't worry mom I'm taking (overdosing on?) my vitamin C and getting plenty of rest) but I'm here--sinuses erupting and all--because I am dedicated to sharing the following story with you guys.

In our clubs office we have lots of different work personnel, one of which is our club lawyer. His name is Sasha. Sasha told me on Thursday that he was having invasive surgery this weekend, so naturally I asked him what for. He said that he was getting surgery to have the METAL PARTICLES IN HIS SINUSES REMOVED THAT HAD BEEN THERE FOR 2 YEARS DUE TO A DENTAL PROCEDURE GONE WRONG.

Um, excuse me?... dude Sash, wait....what?.... REALLY?

Immediate note to self: don't ever under any circumstances go to a Russian dentist.

Sasha was speaking in Russian so I didn't understand all the details but he said that he had a cavity a few years back and went in to have it worked on....and a few months later felt scratching and irritation so he got x-rays and sure enough, small particles of metal had somehow made their way up into his sinuses via his bloodstream. I know your answer is no, but I'll ask anyways. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? How in the world do metal particles end up in your sinuses as a result of a dentist appointment? Does the dentist's drill spontaneously combust mid-cavity-fill? Or maybe his pliers disobediently dissolve inside your mouth leaving their miniscule metal crumbs to infect your bloodstream.....I mean, I just don't understand.

Of course while Sasha is explaining this whole ordeal, my mind is running wild and I've got the whole thing vividly playing out in my head. My demonic imagination then files it under the category, "things to haunt Kristin with later" inside the "DENTIST NIGHTMARES" folder.....

I know everyone says this and as a result it loses value, but I hate the dentist. No seriously, I hate the dentist.

Just the thought of going to the dentist makes my stomach turn in a hundred different directions. I think the outrageous level of dislike is a result of the dozens of times I've had to go and subject myself to their devilish procedures. Why I was cursed with extremely cavity-prone teeth? I don't know. (Sometimes I think my teeth are perfectly fine and it's my dentist who is causing all the problems by mischievously planting piles of plaque in the crevasses of my teeth to keep me coming back in order to keep his clinic thriving). Anyways, back to my exceptional dental hygiene. I brush my teeth 2, even sometimes 3 times a day. And I floss!.....well kind of. Once in a while. I guess me and flossing have what some might call a semi-volatile relationship. On one hand, flossing consistently makes the cut on my long (usually unattainable) list of New Years Resolutions year after year, so it knows I know it's important. But on the other hand, when it comes to actually performing the daily task of flossing, I just can't seem to ever remember to do it. That is, until I go to the dentist and they tell me I've got yet another cavity due to (of course, what else?) the "lack of flossing." (Flossing's revenge for not paying enough attention to it. It's a malicious and emotional thing I tell you, Floss). After my doc breaks the news that the evil plaque minions are back at it AGAIN destroying my poor pearly whites, the panic starts to set in. Panic followed by unrepentant needles. Unrepentant needles followed by suffocating plastic. And suffocating plastic followed by pliers and my very least favorite, the screwdriver. Finally....after it's all over, home I'm sent with feeling in only half of my face and drooling the whole way. Maybe you have been there. Unless of course your name is Amanda Felson and even though you eat truckloads of sugar and most relevantly, don't floss, you've never had a cavity. (INSERT ENVY HERE). Anyways, post appointment, I wholeheartedly floss morning afternoon and night for at least a week straight, determined to do whatever it takes to avoid having to go back. But I inevitably lose steam and forget to do it, and the Floss-Abuse-Cycle starts up all over again. Poor me, right? I know.

I have to go to sleep now. Don't forget when you say your prayers tonight to say a big thanks that you live in the USA and as a result you don't have a Russian dentist with bright blue eye shadow, a very bad dye job and a dissolving screwdriver filling your cavities.

And don't forget to floss.

I bet you didn't know I could break dance

2009-11-11T11:03:00.000-08:00

Hi! I didn't forget about you guys so don't get your panties in a twist. I haven't had much time lately to spend blogging because not only was I very busy stubbornly boycotting blogging until the monster follower left me alone (HE'S GONE, I WIN) but I've been completely absorbed by this one website. It's a website (a miraculous mood uplifting life saving website) that lets you watch new release flicks and current TV episodes. In the last 24 hours alone I've watched My Sister's Keeper, The Hangover (HAHA), Gossip Girl (guilty pleasure), Glee, and of course episode after episode of my latest (very real) obsession, So You Think You Can Dance.

.... I don't care if you don't like that show, in fact I don't even care if you like that show, I love that show. Only thing I don't like is Mary's voice. Actually, I despise her voice because it gives me headaches most of the time. But other than that, like I said, it's L-O-V-E. I don't know why I like it so much. I don't like the earlier episodes when it's all tryouts. I mean it has its minimal entertainment value because you see all the wackos who think they can dance but can't and as a result get torn to pieces by the judges but what I really love is the later episodes when the top 20 are competing on stage in Hollywood.

To me there is something very beautiful about dancing. As a matter of fact, not only do I think this about just dancing, but about all of the arts. I am very easily affected by a gifted voice, a powerful photograph, inspiring lyrics, and even something (that maybe goes unnoticed by most) like unique cinematography. With dancing, I'm not sure I can even articulate it but, the combination of music and talent seems to tug at my heart strings like clockwork. But then again, I guess that makes sense because I was indeed cursed with the "cry at anything and everything including the most cliche things ever like Hallmark commercials (thanks to mom and grandma)" disease.

Anyways.

Just to give you an idea of how big of a closet-dance-lover I am.... you know those really silly Step-up movies? I own them. All of them. And when I watch them, I rewind the choreographed dance scenes to watch them over and over.. and over again.... all the while wishing that I could trade in some of my bumping and spiking skills to attend some really prestigious dance academy in new york. I'd of course be super stylish and chic and talented and cool and stuff. HAHA I have never told anyone this, but I can't break BHC (Blog Honesty Code) so now you know.

If all this has made you wonder... no I can't dance. My dancing repertoire includes a hip hop routine that me and my 07' classmates performed at our freshman initiation, a breakdancing routine that me and Cynthia perfected while at Stanford and continue to perform around the globe, and very strangely, the Cuban salsa (that was taught to me by a Cuban friend of mine while playing my first season in Russia). But other than that when I dance I am afraid I just look like a fool. But a very energetic and shameless fool of course.

In other news it's snowing here! It was unbearably cold for a few days until it finally snowed today. And just for the record if you think you're tough when it comes to low temperatures and cold weather, I dare you to come hang out with me for a day. At times it is intolerable, and sometimes after waking up from my afternoon nap I look out my window and simply can't imagine bearing the cold.... I can't, I won't, I refuse to go outside. But then reality slaps me in the face and reminds me that I'm a slave to this club (that's most likely run by some sort of very intimidating mafia personnel) and that they own the rights to my body.... and then, as anti as I am, up and out I go to brave the Siberian icebox.

Also (I'm not done complaining about winter's arrival) last night I was trying to sleep and couldn't because of there was some sort of colossal wind-storm of sorts going on right outside my window. Being that I am on the 9th floor in my apartment building (out of 9 floors... don't ask me whether or not we have an elevator because if you do--because the answer is no--I'll just get upset) I thought at one point that my house was actually going to blow over. So naturally, in my prayers among a few other things, I humbly asked my Heavenly Father not to let the wind eat my apartment complex..... and well, God is good, I'm still with you guys.

One last thing I promise. Today I was thinking....how bad would it suck to be a bird in Siberia? Granted you're a bird so you could theoretically fly away but a) your entire bird posse is here so you wouldn't want to leave and b) alright you decide to up and move camp but what's waiting for you if you fly north?....Antartica. South?...Kazakhstan or Mongolia, depending on wind current. East?... North Korean biological weapons. West?... well I suppose if you go west that's your best bet. But how long are your little wings going to sustain you before you collapse into one of the former soviet union states that is cursed with the exact same crappy weather as the place you are so eagerly vacating?

Point of all this is it's flipping cold here. Anyone wanna come visit?

HEY MONSTER FOLLOWER

2009-11-04T11:28:00.000-08:00

Can someone please explain to me why I have someone named "monster" following my blog?

Is this some sort of joke?

I thought I made it clear that I didn't want monsters reading my blog. And now I've got one following it? I guess this leaves me one option.

Dear "Monster"--
   Who are you? Where are you from? Where do you live? (Have you ever been to Siberia?) What kind of monster are you? Are you a goblin? (Are you a Siberian goblin?) Do you have a monster mistress? Does she wear a pointy hat and hang out on a broom? Do you guys have troll babies? Are you guys related to Lord Valdemort? Are you Lord Valdemort? If you're not a goblin and your name isn't Valdemort then maybe you suck people's blood? If you do, no offense, but I'm not a part of the whole worldwide vampire craze thing, I think it's crap.
   If you're not a goblin and you're not Valdemort and you're not a vampire, I'm out of ideas. Maybe you breathe fire and have slimy green skin? And purple twisty eyes coupled with some pointy horns? I know your type...you guys hide under kids beds and in closets and pop out at the perfect un-expecting moment. Do you do that for entertainment? Let me guess, you and your monster posse have contests to see who can get the most kids to wet their diapers the fastest. After you scare the kids, do you eat them? Do you also eat fairies? .........Do you eat blogs?
   Lastly, if you're man enough (or monster enough) to reply, I've got a question for you. Where in the BLEEP do you get off thinking you're funny nicknaming yourself "monster"and following my blog?

Wholeheartedly,
Kristin

My parents are cooler than your parents

2009-11-02T11:22:00.000-08:00

This is my mom and dad handing out candy to all the mini tricker-treaters yesterday (that's my handsome pops on the left). They did this every year when we were young..... And they're still doing it now even though all their kiddos are all grown up... I told you they're cool.

(Back when we were little, we used to litter our whole front yard with Halloween props...a strobe light in the bushes, monster cut-out's on the drive-way, scary music playing on the outdoor speakers (featuring reoccurring wicked witch cackles throughout) and a swarm of cobwebs overflowing the walkway you had to brave in order to get your handful of Smarties... which were inescapably located inside the caldron on Frankensteins lap..... Only the bravest little kids on the block actually ended up getting their candy....most didn't even make it half way up our front steps before changing their minds and sprinting away...And by good fortune, me and my siblings were left with truckloads of leftover Halloween candy......AND SUGAR HIGH'S FOR A MONTH!!!!!!!)

Anyway, here are a few pics of my Russian Halloween. Posted for my mom. Not posted for creepy monster people if they are still reading this (which you shouldn't be because I politely asked you to go away).

A Siberian pumpkin! And my pretty teammate<--who is lame and didn't dress up..

Alright enough with the Halloween posts. I pinky-swear I won't post anything else Halloween-related for at least another 364 days.

Just in case you didn't believe me

2009-11-01T07:54:00.000-08:00

Here's photographic evidence that the homemade fat suits were real. My parents read my post and sent me this pic this morning. It's not very clear but it's clear enough to see that I'm wayyyyy fatter than Lauren.

I told you it was a conspiracy...

A Halloween Conspiracy

2009-10-31T03:40:00.001-07:00

So this one year, my mom and dad dressed me and my sister up as ummmm, "fat people"...... really. You should know before I go on, that my parents are the best and most kind-hearted people in the world. But for some reason, maybe because my sister and I were skinner than anorexic string beans, they thought it'd be funny to stuff us with pillows and send us off to our piano recital.

I remember that it took some convincing, but eventually my sister and I agreed to this "great and really funny costume idea".... In my head, when I agreed, we'd put one or two pillows in our respective outfits and be on our way. What more could we outfit the costume with anyway?

I had to have been 9 and my sister maybe 11. They stuffed our itty-bitty shirts and shorts with masses of pillows, and as if that wasn't bad enough, they got candy bar wrappers and safety pinned them to our shirts. THEN (there's more) to top it off, they gave us part of a Milky Way and told us to smear it on our fingers and--playing along because I hadn't seen myself in the mirror yet--I even smudged some on my t-shirt...which was now not only garnshed in Milky Way remains and smothered in candy wrappers, but bursting at the seams due to the army of pillows being held captive inside.

My mom and dad thought we looked great. By the way they were proudly gazing at their finished products, we had to have looked great. Then I walked inside because I wanted to see what I looked like in the mirror. That's when the tears came. And they came fast and in considerable numbers. My sister didn't cry but she didn't look nearly as bad as me. I think that because she was older and had more of a clue what was going on, they didn't make her as fat or plaster her with nearly as many candy bar wrappers. In fact, now that I think about it, maybe the three of them were playing a joke on me. I cried for at least 10 minutes refusing to attend said piano recital and fiiiinally, after some persuasive convincing that involved a Baskin Robbins bribe, I said I'd go. So I soldiered up and went....looking like the chunkiest 9 year old you'd ever laid your eyes on. Or the most inappropriately costumed 9 year old you'd ever laid your eyes on. Either way, can you imagine what the Baskin Robbins employee must have thought when I walked in and ordered my sundae?

In retrospect I don't blame my parents (or my sister who I just realized was a conspirator) because I think it's funny and I can't think of anything more entertaining than dressing kids up as inappropriate things and sending them to public functions....

This Halloween I'm dressing up as a witch.. original I know.. but resources are limited here at the Siberian pole. Today my teammates and I trudged around the entire city for 3 hours desperately searching for a costume shop, and once we finally found one, the only Halloween props they had included a witch hat, a pair of angel wings, devil ears, and a nurse suit. Ughhhhh, I miss Good Will.

Happy Halloweeeeeeeen

..........

2009-10-30T08:27:00.001-07:00

I had a small anxiety attack when I woke up this morning and remembered I actually started a blog. First thought that came to my head when I remembered I'd willingly signed up to expose myself to the entire planet was, do they have privacy settings on these things? Second thought: what if they don't and creepy monster people have access to my blog? Third thought: well, you deserve creepy monster people to be reading your blog because you started a blog after you promised JJ last year that you wouldn't.

So even though I deserve it, if you're reading this and you fall under the description of creepy and/or monster then please go away and don't come back. Thanks, I really appreciate it. (Bye).

Now that that's out of the way... last night I dreamt that all this starting a blog nonsense was a big joke that I played on my big sis. In my dream I pretended I had started one, even got a fake website to divert her and buy me some more time, another 13 and a half months. In my dream, in my head, 13 and a half months was more than enough time to devise another plan to trick her all over again....

Alright, I made that all up but I really wish it were true. Because if it were true then I wouldn't have a blog that doesn't have any privacy settings and most importantly, creepy monster people wouldn't be reading my diary.

Anyone know where they sell blog guts?

2009-10-27T10:17:00.010-07:00

My first blog post. Yikes.

(Trying not to panic).

Hi everyone! I guess the appropriate thing to do here is introduce myself. My name is Kristin and I am 24, 6' tall barefoot, 155 leggy pounds, caucasian, in a relationship, LDS, a Stanford graduate and oh, BLOG SHY. Allow me to elaborate. I'm not just your average entry-level kind of blog shy....turns out I am dreadfully blog shy. I'm not even 4 sentences into my first post and I'm already experiencing what I imagine it'd feel like if I'd been pantsed in front of my entire 3rd grade science class. Or if I had soiled my tights in the middle of a Halloween dance recital because I couldn't get my full-body skeleton leotard unzipped. (Unfortunately the latter happened to me in my innocent and vulnerable pre-teen years, but that's beside the point).

All blushing cheeks and soiled tights aside, I want to dedicate this blog to my big sister Lauren who has encouraged (ahem, peer pressured) me to start it. It's only taken me 13 and a half months to brainstorm and post my first topic...the first of many nonsensical things that will most likely only end up wasting your time. If it makes any difference, I promise cross-my-heart-hope-to-die-stick-a-needle-in-my-eye to do my best not to waste your time? To be honest (that's what you're supposed to do on these things isn't it?) I've always believed people had blogs because they had cool and articulate things to say. I don't believe I have cool or articulate things to say, but ahhh well, I guess you only live once. Or more truthfully (Blog Honesty Code) you can only dodge big sister peer pressure for 13 and a half months before you break. Lauren, I hope you're happy. Everyone else, welcome to my electronic diary.

I'll be back later to write some more. Maybe. I think.