That kind of finish...

Before dishing out the leftover photos from Paris and Rome, courtesy of Ben, here's the best understandable Russian language mistake I've made:
I learned and always thought the verb for finish was "Kon-chat" or "Kon-cheet" (imperfect or perfect form). So I've been using that a lot. And everybody smiles and corrects me, adding a "Za-" to the beginning of the verb. I was starting to get the hang of it, and trying to get it right, but surely there's a context where the true form of "to finish" works.
Finally, walking around museums and Old Arbat (sort of the La Rambla, Greenwich Village, or Fanueil Hall of Moscow, now commercialized), I asked my companion why I couldn't say "Kon-chat." "Does it mean something more like 'to end', or suggest that you died or something?"
She laughed, and then finally consented to explain. Apparently, "Kon-chat" is used for one specific context of finishing, but rather than a death context, it's the quite contrasting sexual context. So while you fully grasp that, I assure you all that I will not make that mistake again, unless I do it deliberately, in my punning sense of humor.

Ok, pictures.

Welcome to Paris. I had no luck finding the Hunchback.

Larger than Life. That speck in the middle is me holding on just before losing control and sliding down the face of the park, breaking my sandals and scraping my finger bad enough to last for the rest of the trip (it is healed now, don't worry). Ben would have taken an action photo if he wasn't caught between laughing and wondering if he should catch me.
Instead of running through La Fontana Di Trevi Anita Eckburg-style, as requested, I posed. I think I look almost as good as she did. Or at least my chest is roughly proportional to hers.

And I have zakoncheel, though not koncheel.

Dan