The one where I whine about missing out.

In an effort to not fall behind on culture, and not just any culture, but the culture I'd like to jump right back into when I return to the states, I've been continuously downloading music and movies, and trying as much as I can to maintain a sense of fashion out here (even though, out here, my sunglasses receive such reactions as "Those are bigger than her face!", old people staring, or unhappy married women snickering.)

However, my living modern vicariously through the internet is just depressing. I can't really take advantage of any of the cool things I am aware of. When I was in Berlin (which, by the by, was a really fucking awesome city, with street art, and ART, and music, and I danced all night and walked home in the morning in my party dress in the rain, amazing) I was reminded how out of touch I've been this year, because really, I have no reason to really be 'in-touch' out here. I, like, 'fit in' in Berlin, if I can even say that (does that make me sound lame? Probably.) But I felt pretty in Western Europe, as opposed to 'young,' which is how I feel out here (because I look like a kid out here. I do. Many people have told me in town. It's a compliment?)

But also, it's not just my looks; I really love dancing. But especially to good music. In Berlin, the club played some good musics. In Chisinau, the club kind of plays techno music (Smack my Bitch up!) or top 40 (Everybody Dance Now!), or okay, sometimes alright R&B/Hip-Hop, but it's not quite the scene I'd prefer. It's more of a real clubby scene (read: douches&blondez.)

So what do I do? I dance in my apartment. A lot. In front of a mirror. And you know what guys? I'm a REALLY good dancer. No, like, really good! And when Misha comes over, and I put on the new M.I.A., he dances with me. And when Annie and the girls come over, and we put on Justin Timberlake or Girl Talk, we dance. Sometimes the boys come over from Chisinau and I put on DJ Assualt or Dizzee Rascal and teach them how to dance 'Detroit.' The new dancehall, is my front hall.

When I was in Copenhagen with my folks, I saw a pair of shoes that I returned to three times while in the city. They were the only pair of size 35's in entire Denmark or Germany, which is to say they fit me like Cinderella's glass slippers. They were black, high, and $600. I really really liked them. My mom really really liked them too. It was hard for us to see me walk around the store in these totally sexy, yet casual heels, and know that we will not buy them for a few reasons. First, they were $600. My mother has certainly never spent that much on a pair of shoes, nor was going to then. I didn't and don't have $600. Mom did say this though, "If you were a big shot attorney right now I'd buy them for you." to which I responded, "If I was such an attorney, I'd buy them for myself." But as we all know, I am not an attorney. I am a Peace Corps volunteer in a developing country. Which leads me to reason 2. I don't need those shoes out here. I mean, people just wouldn't understand them. Plus, the roads are sort of fucked up sometimes, and those shoes are strictly for being-driven-around-in or living in a city with convenient public transportation. Lastly, um, I'm working here for practically free and how ridiculous of me to be a volunteer, walking around in Miu Miu heels just to go teach aerobics at the sport school.

So knowing shoes like those exist and are accessible (for a price), music is still being made and people are still staying out all nights dancing to it, and in parts of the world my scarves and sunglasses would be understood, I've found a new motivation to start studying for the LSAT's, which I will be taking in December. (DECEMBER, friends, I'LL BE BACK IN THE EASTERN TIME ZONE... details to follow.) I need to get into a law school that will lead me to a career that will afford me the lifestyle I aspire towards, plus be located in a city that I'll be able to divert myself in.

To undermine actual depression of being the lone fashionista in town, being lonely here in general, and my lethargy, I've written myself motivational notes all over my apartment to psych me out to study for those goddamn LSAT's so I can be great. My favorite note is pasted to my hall mirror- the one I dance into.

It reads: "Amy, This is temporary, but your future is FOREVER."