Kasey, Pleathure, and Central Asia

So, after 48 hours of being awake I had the wierdest dream about Kasey.....

After flying into Omsk, Russia, my mom, my aunt, and I were picked up by Iggy (a Kazakhstan student my own age who has lived with my family for the past three summers) and his father and driven across the border into Kazakhstan. Mind you, it was after an ENTIRE day of intense touring of Moscow (imagine Red Square, St. Basil's Catherdral, the state's russian art gallery, and part of a Russian Orthodox church service) and a red-eye flight (at 1:55 am) from Moscow to Omsk, Russia.

Anyways, after getting through the border I was stressed and exhausted. It would have been nice to sleep in the car, but Kazakhstan does not invest a whole lot of money on infrastructure - the road was covered with potholes. More than once we hit one going so fast my head hit the ceiling of Iggy's dad's SUV. Anyways, I nodded off in the back just long enough to get a full picture of Kasey, pleathure and all, snoring on the floor of the cookhouse after a very fun and very successful Harvest Dance. Then we hit a pothole going 1 million miles an hour and my head snapped back. My neck STILL hurts.

Kasey, I'm not creapy - you are just a fox in that outfit. You should GO SPEED DATING IN IT! Just to be THAT GURL!

Kazakhstan says Привет (hello).

Lovinz galore,

Chance (or, as it is mispelled on my Russian visa - Чейнке (pronounced "Chyean-kye).