Home again, home again, jiggity-jig. Much has happened in the last week or so that I want to record but don’t think I will be able to cover it all. I’ll try and leave out drawn-out descriptions and a “sequence of events” approach to journaling and focus on my reaction and emotions. I landed in America 24 hours ago and have felt disoriented ever since. Saying goodbye to my friends did not seem real at all, and waking up this morning I found it strange that I began thinking about what Charlie (my roommate in Russia) was doing that day, whether I would go to the city to see my Russian acquaintances, etc. “Phantom-friend Syndrome,” if you will. Seeing my family and all the familiarities of my childhood home did cheer me up, though. However, this elation might be short lived, as I have heard/read that the initial “honeymoon” quickly transforms into a sense of being an alien in your own home country/environment. I would bet, though, that I will miss Russia much more than I will feel separated from life in America. I mean, I loved being in Russia and the life I created there, but that will be a personal struggle that I don’t think will separate me from my family and friends. It will be hard not talking about Russia, though. Already I have noticed that, in conversations, I compare Russian and American culture constantly, everything from business enterprise to coffee-culture. I don’t think it is a bad thing, but the third or fourth mention of Russia usually leads to an awkward silence.  I need a place to air my thoughts in private so as to prevent stymieing discussions with my apparent obsession with Russia. Looks like I’ll be continuing my personal journal for at least the first few weeks, and hopefully longer as I think it makes me feel closer to myself. This blog will be ending soon, though. (!?!?!) What will I do without a place to publish my unimportant and at-times-irrelevant opinions? I will probably post a few more times throughout the summer, but only when something strikes me as culturally significant or I realize a new aspect of Russian culture I overlooked during my time there. Speaking of things I overlooked, that seems to be the main source of my slight grief at being back in America: I can’t go back and do things I wanted to, or say things I wanted to say. My departure was violent and final. In fact, this thought has distracted me most of the morning and continues to nag at my mind. Opposed to this is an excited anticipation of all the opportunity which summer brings: reading books for my own pleasure, cultivating all those hobbies shouldered aside by academic work, etc. However, frequent journaling has made me realize that such contrasting attitudes are commonplace for me, or maybe journaling polarizes my outlooks on life. It’s not so bad, though, as I always consider the pros and cons and end up making a moderate, reasonable response to whatever was stirring inside me. However, I must be off. It was great Russia. I learned a lot from you and hope fate allows our paths to cross once again. Until next time, da svidanya.