the day i realize i used to speak russian

so a few days back, someone commented on my blog and asked, "wait, what's your first language?" because I said that English wasn't my first language, even though it's the only one I can write in (sort of, I think). So I was all like, oh, you know, Hebrew or Spanish and actually I'm not really sure, because I've lived a weird young life.

but then last night, I was on a (horrifically delayed...like five hours) MegaBus to Connecticut to see Mike, and I was jamming it up to The Beatles' "Back In The USSR" (my favorite Beatles song ever given my obsession with Soviet gymnasts...I mean, you can't tell me this isn't lovely. Or this. Or this.), and I was like, man, I wish I spoke Russian. Basically because I watch weird shit like MTV Russia when the Russian gymnasts are on getting interviewed about the Olympics and such, and it'd be nice to understand. Also, it sounds cool.

so in my head I was like, hmm. I know some words. I totally know some words. Like da is yes and nyet is no and stoi is stick it and davai is go! And then I thought, wait, I totally know the word for vacuum cleaner, but I just can't really think of it right now and good God, it's driving me crazy (much like I couldn't remember the name of "the other bookstore" the other day -- it was Borders, duh. DUH).

{by this point the Russian had been long forgotten, and by the way, my sister used to walk like Tommy from Rugrats and when the doctor put casts on her feet, I insisted they had to be pink, so that's what that story is about}

okay the point of this story is that then I was like why in the world would I know the Russian word for vacuum cleaner? And then it hit me! I used to speak Russian! I swear! My first babysitter was from somewhere in the former Soviet Union so I'd go running around in my diapers (just kidding, I was too fat to support my weight, much less run around...chubby baby, you see) spouting off Russian words left and right.

{okay, I totally know davai and stoi from watching so much gymnastics, but I still don't think this tarnishes the authenticity of my first-language-Russian-ness}

I realize there is really no point to this post, other than to pretend like I am super multicultural (I mean, I am), and also because I think it sort of justifies my fascination with Russian gymnastics. So there.

and if you're still wondering why a baby needs to know the word for vacuum cleaner, then you've obviously never grown up with an obsessive compulsive parent.

the end.