Russian weather is bi-polar

I just hope that you will all be able to accept my new affinity for fish net nylons, techno remixes, Дима Билан (Dima Bilan), and tendency to throw random Russian catch phrases into conversation.

You know you’ve been in Russia too long when….

You carry a plastic shopping bag with you ‘just in case’.
When crossing the street, you sprint.
You hear the radio say it is zero degrees outside and you think it is a nice day for a change.
You are pleasantly surprised when there is toilet paper in the WC at work/school
You are relieved when the guy standing next to you on the bus actually uses a handkerchief.
You discover a new love of beets.
You know seven people whose favorite novel is “The Master and Margarita”.
You change into ‘tapki’ (slippers) and wash your hands as soon as you walk into your apartment.
You drink the brine from empty pickle jars.
You begin refering to locals as ‘nashi’ (our’s).
Locals start refering to you as ‘nash’ (our).
You know more than 20 Lenas, 30 Mashas and 60 Sashas.
You haven’t worn your sneakers for anything but offical exercise in months.
Cigarette smoke becomes ‘tolerable’, or, if you’re a smoker, you beginning smoking at least a pack a day more than you did before coming.
You think metal doors are a necessity.
A gallon of milk seems like a foreign concept.
The elevator aroma seems reassuring somehow.
You sit in silence on your bags for a few moments before leaving on any long journey.
You catch yourself whistling indoors and feel guilty.
You never smile in public when you’re alone.
That strange pungent mix of odors of star sawdust, sweat and grime in the metro makes you feel safe and at home.
The word ‘salad’ ceases to have anything to do with lettuce.
Mayonnaise becomes your dressing of choice.
You can recite in Russian all the words to all of the tampon/beer/chewing gum/coke/cell phone/juice commercials.
You do not leave any room between you and person in front of you in line. Ever.
You voluntarily take a stroll in the park, Baltika beer in hand, on a sub-zero day.
You are no longer surprised when your taxi drivers tells you that before Perestroika, he worked as a rocked scientist.
You dress up in your best outfits for work/school.
You laugh at Russian jokes.