(no subject)
My name is Lyudmila Gulberdiyeva and I am from Turkmenistan. I moved to the USA very recently -- two years ago -- and am now trying to find a new job after my first job in the USA as waitress at a European restaurant in Brooklyn, New York, which was lost to me after the restaurant was discovered to be housing an illegal import business for pirated Russian dance music in the upstairs.
I majored in Russian Language and Literature at Turkmenbashi State University in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan, and that is why I think I am an ideal candidate for the position of Russian Language Conversation Coordinator at Field's Foreign Language School, for which I saw the advertisement in The Herald of Elizabeth, New Jersey.
Your application information, which I found on the website, informed me that I should write an amount of personal information "beyond what is covered in your resume / CV". I will start from beginning, as you seem curious about me.
I first came to the USA by getting married to an American citizen. Now we are divorced after having been married two years and I have my Green Card and immigration authorities cannot revoke it because of divorce. This was planned from the beginning and I am comfortable writing this down because you are private company and are disinterested in reporting immigrants for deportation, especially those most qualified for your employment, for whom there is no legal basis for deportation in the first place, and because many of your clientele must be illegal immigrants as well.
I knew Rodger was the perfect man to marry as soon as I realized that he is a gay. He was on vacation in Ashgabat because he studied Russian Language in college and was interested by traveling to every country of the former Soviet Union in order to speak Russian.
My American friend Julie, who teaches English at the high school next door to my university, introduced me to him as a very old friend of hers. They had known each other for over 16 years. She suggested that I show him around the city because she was on a meager Peace Corps budget and I was the only Turkmen friend she had whose English was good enough for it. (Rodger's Russian was sub-par to the extreme. How can someone who specialized in Russian at university speak it so poorly, I ask?) We spent several days walking around city, and after the first day I added him as Friend on Facebook.com. To my surprise we had three mutual friends! Two girls, and one gay. One was Julie. The other was a friend of mine from university who had moved to the USAs and who introduced me to Julie and introduced Julie to the school next to my university. The gay was the only gay I ever knew in Turkmenistan, who moved to the USA under pretense of having been accepted to a well-regarded graduate school of business.
So many Turkmen are disapproving of gay people, and in fact it is the most intolerant of homosexuals country in the former Soviet Union besides Tajikistan. But I am a modern Turkmenka and speak English well to read American and British newspapers on my internet connection which was made possible to me among the first in Turkmenistan because of my many connections. And being modern and well-informed, I know that the gays are not to be hated, or pitied, but are to be made to be fake husbands for purposes of immigration.
Gurbanguly, mutual friend between Rodger and me, comes from one of the richest families in Turkmenistan. His father is a businessman, and his mother is one too. He gained acceptance at Columbia University no doubt because of his academic ability and family money. He wants to be a businessman just like his parents, but I think the real reason for him wanting to move to the USA was because it is easier to be gay in the USA. If Gurbanguly were not from such a well-regarded family, I do not think he would have told even me, one of his closest friends, that he is a gay.
I feel the need to say that although Gurbanguly's family is of the richest in Turkmenistan, I come from a very modest background. Although perhaps I am telling a small lie: My grandfather was the famous poet who ran for First Secretary of the Communist Party of the Turkmen SSR in the 1950s but was shamed upon losing both the election and his wife to Sukhan Babayev. He was so beside himself after losing the election that he ended up beside himself on the side of the road, and subsequently beside himself in the hospital, and subsequently beside himself in his coffin. My family has had no experience of great importance since the death of my grandfather. My mother is hotel secretary, my brother is student, and my father is drunk. My family is working-class and typical of Turkmenistan soon after independence; my childhood happened far away from the wealthy businessmen of modern Turkmenistan, and farther away from the government bureaucrats of our Soviet past. I do, however, have very many connections in Ashgabat to the Turkmen elite because of my winning personality. This is how I know Gurbanguly, and this is how I know Julie, and this is how I came to know Rodger.
I first suspected that Rodger is a gay when Julie told me that she and he are "just friends". I second suspected that Rodger is a gay after a saw on Facebook.com that he is friends with Gurbanguly. I third suspected that Rodger is a gay when I saw on Facebook.com that he is "interested in: Men".
Rodger agreed to marry me only after vehement persuasion on my part. I asked him a night when we were out at one of Ashgabat's most well-regarded night lounges (it is, in fact, owned by a Canadian businessman. I do not know what kind of a businessman he is, but most likely of oil or of Turkmen Düzy). I did not ask him directly or mention his name in asking; I simply stated that I would like someday to become American and probably should make fake marriage with an American friend, and I looked up sheepishly from the cigarette from which I had been idly flicking ash into the ashtray, directly into his eyes and held his gaze for a second before he diverted it. After lightheartedly stating that he would gladly marry me if he could, but that he couldn't due to reasons I will fail to enumerate here, I asked him, "Pretty please, with cherry on top?" But he would require even more vehement persuasion before agreeing to marry me.
I tried, a night when we were alone, to show him how very sexy I am, and that maybe with my winning personality I can make him attracted to me even though he is a gay. In preparing for lunch at his favorite traditional Turkmen restaurant with him, I put on my highest of high-heels, and my toppest of tank tops, both of them of matching leopard print. During meal-time, I made to jiggle my breasts left-right-left and let my hair fall streaming down as unintentionally as possible, while fixing him with the smile of my winning personality. I knew that it was working based on how his feet shifted nervously back and forth underneath the table.
I majored in Russian Language and Literature at Turkmenbashi State University in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan, and that is why I think I am an ideal candidate for the position of Russian Language Conversation Coordinator at Field's Foreign Language School, for which I saw the advertisement in The Herald of Elizabeth, New Jersey.
Your application information, which I found on the website, informed me that I should write an amount of personal information "beyond what is covered in your resume / CV". I will start from beginning, as you seem curious about me.
I first came to the USA by getting married to an American citizen. Now we are divorced after having been married two years and I have my Green Card and immigration authorities cannot revoke it because of divorce. This was planned from the beginning and I am comfortable writing this down because you are private company and are disinterested in reporting immigrants for deportation, especially those most qualified for your employment, for whom there is no legal basis for deportation in the first place, and because many of your clientele must be illegal immigrants as well.
I knew Rodger was the perfect man to marry as soon as I realized that he is a gay. He was on vacation in Ashgabat because he studied Russian Language in college and was interested by traveling to every country of the former Soviet Union in order to speak Russian.
My American friend Julie, who teaches English at the high school next door to my university, introduced me to him as a very old friend of hers. They had known each other for over 16 years. She suggested that I show him around the city because she was on a meager Peace Corps budget and I was the only Turkmen friend she had whose English was good enough for it. (Rodger's Russian was sub-par to the extreme. How can someone who specialized in Russian at university speak it so poorly, I ask?) We spent several days walking around city, and after the first day I added him as Friend on Facebook.com. To my surprise we had three mutual friends! Two girls, and one gay. One was Julie. The other was a friend of mine from university who had moved to the USAs and who introduced me to Julie and introduced Julie to the school next to my university. The gay was the only gay I ever knew in Turkmenistan, who moved to the USA under pretense of having been accepted to a well-regarded graduate school of business.
So many Turkmen are disapproving of gay people, and in fact it is the most intolerant of homosexuals country in the former Soviet Union besides Tajikistan. But I am a modern Turkmenka and speak English well to read American and British newspapers on my internet connection which was made possible to me among the first in Turkmenistan because of my many connections. And being modern and well-informed, I know that the gays are not to be hated, or pitied, but are to be made to be fake husbands for purposes of immigration.
Gurbanguly, mutual friend between Rodger and me, comes from one of the richest families in Turkmenistan. His father is a businessman, and his mother is one too. He gained acceptance at Columbia University no doubt because of his academic ability and family money. He wants to be a businessman just like his parents, but I think the real reason for him wanting to move to the USA was because it is easier to be gay in the USA. If Gurbanguly were not from such a well-regarded family, I do not think he would have told even me, one of his closest friends, that he is a gay.
I feel the need to say that although Gurbanguly's family is of the richest in Turkmenistan, I come from a very modest background. Although perhaps I am telling a small lie: My grandfather was the famous poet who ran for First Secretary of the Communist Party of the Turkmen SSR in the 1950s but was shamed upon losing both the election and his wife to Sukhan Babayev. He was so beside himself after losing the election that he ended up beside himself on the side of the road, and subsequently beside himself in the hospital, and subsequently beside himself in his coffin. My family has had no experience of great importance since the death of my grandfather. My mother is hotel secretary, my brother is student, and my father is drunk. My family is working-class and typical of Turkmenistan soon after independence; my childhood happened far away from the wealthy businessmen of modern Turkmenistan, and farther away from the government bureaucrats of our Soviet past. I do, however, have very many connections in Ashgabat to the Turkmen elite because of my winning personality. This is how I know Gurbanguly, and this is how I know Julie, and this is how I came to know Rodger.
I first suspected that Rodger is a gay when Julie told me that she and he are "just friends". I second suspected that Rodger is a gay after a saw on Facebook.com that he is friends with Gurbanguly. I third suspected that Rodger is a gay when I saw on Facebook.com that he is "interested in: Men".
Rodger agreed to marry me only after vehement persuasion on my part. I asked him a night when we were out at one of Ashgabat's most well-regarded night lounges (it is, in fact, owned by a Canadian businessman. I do not know what kind of a businessman he is, but most likely of oil or of Turkmen Düzy). I did not ask him directly or mention his name in asking; I simply stated that I would like someday to become American and probably should make fake marriage with an American friend, and I looked up sheepishly from the cigarette from which I had been idly flicking ash into the ashtray, directly into his eyes and held his gaze for a second before he diverted it. After lightheartedly stating that he would gladly marry me if he could, but that he couldn't due to reasons I will fail to enumerate here, I asked him, "Pretty please, with cherry on top?" But he would require even more vehement persuasion before agreeing to marry me.
I tried, a night when we were alone, to show him how very sexy I am, and that maybe with my winning personality I can make him attracted to me even though he is a gay. In preparing for lunch at his favorite traditional Turkmen restaurant with him, I put on my highest of high-heels, and my toppest of tank tops, both of them of matching leopard print. During meal-time, I made to jiggle my breasts left-right-left and let my hair fall streaming down as unintentionally as possible, while fixing him with the smile of my winning personality. I knew that it was working based on how his feet shifted nervously back and forth underneath the table.