American Dream

My Dear Friend!
How are you doing! Congratulation with the present, which Yeltsin endowed you by the New Year. Finally that mummy stopped to gleam in front of people eyes. Something fresh at least, although not very impressive. Hopefully, things wouldn't be worse.
I'm doing good. As always life is beautiful, full of adventures. As always my style. As soon, as I got over the last one '' The spiritual journey into Dream Work with Princeton professor", I immediately got into new adventure, this one almost real one, but the result was the same. I continue asking myself '' Babushka, when do you stop this fun?'' and I hear the answer: " Probably never"
So, this is a story. After I freed myself from my Spiritual Father, which came out to be even worse, than my own, or father of my child, I felt, that wounds were pretty painful and I need to heal them somehow. In despair I addressed to people on Internet. To my surprised I discovered about 4000 great American men, who are waiting a moment to take care and give a love to a nice woman. 299 of them preferred women, whose main quality was honesty. So, I chose that company. After My Spiritual Father showed its absence so shocking, I decided that honest man now can help me the best to heal my wounds, so I started the '' Search for Honest American man".
I wrote some letters. The first man who responded to my cry was very passionate. He was ready to hear my story and comfort me. I told him the story and he really responded with love. He presented to me so moving speech about God and Love and God in people, and Love to people. But you know what an ungrateful creature I am. Instead of just thanks, I boldly added as a nasty child '' Do you really believe, in the words you told me?'' I knew that it's not polite, but I couldn't restrain myself.
He came out from situation very gracefully. He wished me good luck and excused himself, explaining, that he doesn't equipped enough to continue with me that issue. I in my turn thanked him with all my heart for that honesty.
This probably is my American fun!!
Then I had a bunch of men who responded to me this way ''Hi, Lady! Got a pic (picture)?.... Bye!''
During my research I discovered an interesting thing. The favorite thing, American men love to do with a woman of their dream is holding hands.
Holding hands was more frequent desire the American men display over the Internet. Holding hands was in different forms: in moon light, during long walk along the beach, in front of fireplace. I don't know why people say American men are crazy about sex, that sex is their favorite activity. No, it's wrong. Holding hands! According to my research.
And finally I got Something. The letter got the strong impulse of energy right through the Internet. When I checked the profile, I got a strong chill. The man was good looking, approximately my age, and he was a photographer and a writer and he didn't mention holding hands. O, boy, I responded, He responded back.
He described American life almost the way I saw it. I lost my hinders, I glued to the computer. I forgot everybody, even a great man from England, who patiently taught me computers.
The screen was hot from our mutual energy and enthusiasm. Situation became heated. All forgotten dreams and unfulfilled desires went through the keyboard, and ended up with a proposal, an idea, a dream in reality. We can go to a Great Adventure to explore the best of America. Wild West, see places, meet people, to collect material for the future book about America, romantic adventure. It wasn't peaceful holding hands in front of fireplace. It was something to lose mind. And it was exactly what I did. The man lived in Alaska, and he made a proposal to come to visit him in Alaska, to see Alaska and each other. We couldn't just go to Great Adventure w/o seeing each other, which was understandable and I loved the idea. He promised to cover the half of expenses. Another variant was to meet him in his business trip in Oregon and then to go together to Alaska. I loved it even better. On the back of my mind there was a nasty small thought. This man didn't see even my picture yet. I always love the idea not to start to learn each other from looking at the picture. But to make such Great Plans w/o looking at the picture it was already too much not to feel that something was wrong here. The man was good looking and a photographer! ....
But I was already carried away. I saw myself in Portland airport. I already walked in Alaska and explored America driving along Wild West with the Greatest Man. I panicked. I was tied up with two jobs, both with lousy salary, but one was nasty and gave me possibility to pay for my attic and be covered with medical insurance. Another one was for my mind and a soul and gave me pleasure and hope for future improvement of my situation. This one I had to give up first. The mother of the boy I started to teach photography was very upset. We just started, the boy got attached to me. He made improvement. I felt, that finally I could used my coins to help a sick child.
Trying to explain to mother this madness I finally started to realize, the wrongness of situation. Why should I go to Alaska, If we can just look at each other in Portland? Why I need to spend my vacation in Alaska, if in a month or so we are leaving for Great Adventure. After my ''spiritual journey'', I lost all money I saved and earned during the ''journey''.
When I brought up all these issues to the man, his talkativeness disappeared, he answered very shortly, he doesn't know the price of ticket, he can't help with a computer. Insurance? I don't have to worry, he has car insurance which cover everything, besides he has a family. The nasty thought continued to bother me. Wait a minute, it's his insurance, it's his relatives. I should relay on his relatives!? Something was obviously wrong. But again I felt somehow that I ruined the beautiful dream, the man offered me with my nasty realistic stuff: like insurance & prices for tickets. The romantic man didn't want to participate in that dream destroying and left everything up to me. So, I was stuck, I was tired, I couldn't think about anything. So, I wrote him that I'd like to be a bird, so could fly anywhere w/o a ticket and worry about medical insurance. I made a suggestion to leave the issue and just to engage in his favorite activity - just talking. But there wasn't any response from him that evening.
Next morning I got up and my head was clear as a crystal. I realized that I can loose my small freedom I struggled so hard to get. And then I developed a plan, rational with different options, so nobody wouldn't hurt, if the Great Adventure will end up unsuccessfully. I wrote a long letter with all explanations about money as a freedom and prison, doesn't matter if its an abundance or luck of them, with different choices as 1. 2. 3. even a. and b. There was nothing from pink romance there, it was a harsh reality, which tried to save a dream w/o destroying anybody’s life.

The response was an anger. I was accused, that as most of Americans I see a freedom in money, while for him the freedom is an opportunity to do what he wants: to study, to think, to say what he wanted, to go places he wanted to go. That he wanted just to show me American Dream, but I spoiled everything with my worries about medical insurance.
I felt ashamed, but it was so familiar feeling for me. Finally I realized! Sedona dream! Conference in Sedona. Henry on the top of the pool giving speeches about lofty spiritual stuff, and me sitting right on the bottom of empty pool and feeling terrible ashamed, that I spend my last money to come and listen those speeches. I was ashamed about being irresponsible about money issue and now I felt ashamed for being too responsible about that. Something so weird was there. It doesn't matter what I do, but in result  I'm always accused in something, as not wanting to see the light or for destroying American dream along with romantic adventure.
First I wanted as always to investigate in what scheme I was supposed to fit in the plan of that romantic man, who wanted so much to show me the best of America, but I have as always seen the worst.
But instead I called mother, apologized for my restless behavior and said that my trip was canceled and tomorrow I will come to my best friend 6 y.o. retarded boy Chesky in order to teach him life with the help of photography.