It's impossible to interpret Russian without a significant initial gorunding in how to even pronounce which letters make which sounds. Walking around in Russia, though there is a good deal of spotty Westernization, feels truly and absolutely foreign like nowhere else thus far.

Taxi drivers in Russia will be an entire post of its own soon. Suffice to say that for example yesterday our zealous cabbie wanted to get moving so badly at one point he got out of the cab, went to the car in front of us, and starting accosting that driver. Later the traffic wasn't moving on the street, so he pulled halfway onto the curb, putting two wheels on the sidewalk, and shot ahead that way. Then he pulled entirely onto the sidewalk.

Our "Fabulous Places" welcome aboard show (doesn't even the TITLE make you itch?) is together now, the process eased by our director and musical director, tw men we were all happy to see again even if it was for this. We're also working up four openers, which only a cruel and foolish tyrant would make us use much.

The days dreading this rehearsal and installation process were much worse than the process itself. All the black market DVDs I'm collecting certainly ease the pain. ;)

Anyway, tomorrow back to Hel... sinki. I refuse to say that any other way.

"What are you doing today?"

"Going to Hel..."

"So you're..."

"...sinki."