O Capital, my Fairest...

Our group recently took a trip to St. Petersburg; the fomer capital of Russia, the site of one of the longest and deadliest sieges of WWII, the window into Europe, and overall a freakin' beautiful city.
We got there by night train, which was a neat experience overall.  There were four beds contained in 10 x 6 room, so navigating any of it required synchronized cooperation from all four people.  We're pretty good at that already, though, because when in Russia, sidestepping is just part of the game. 

Also, it was my birthday at midnight, so, ya know...booze.

We arrived in the morning and had some hotel breakfast, then took a bus tour around the city.  It's a gorgeous place, to be sure, and I was super excited to be able to literally touch the Neva River (she's the feisty one who likes to drown the city every now and then). 

 

She was cool this time though.

This occasional murderous flood happens because St. Petersburg was built in the middle of a swamp at the polite request of Peter the Great.  He wanted greater contact with the West, a water port on the Baltic Sea, and presumably a kick-ass bachelor pad, so he pretty much stuck a (solid gold) stick in the mulch and said "I shall build here!"  What he meant by that, of course, was, "I shall force serfs and slaves to build and die here, and the streets will literally be paved with their bodies! Party!"

Thus was born St. Pete's.  Now, it's Russia's second biggest city, and is widely considered to be its cultural capital.

I mean, c'mon...there was a F*R*I*E*N*D*S (or Д*Р*У*З*Ь*Я) themed hotel right next to ours, with a painted car parked outside to match.  CULTURE!!

Anyway, back to the tour.  At one point the bus stopped to let us off at a souvenir shop, which I wasn't stoked about until our tour guide told us that there would be free fucking vodka inside.  Doubtful but still daring to hope, we ventured in and peeked around.  Sure enough, the cashier saw us, beckoned us over, and started pouring vodka shots.  What?!  YES. 

It was 1 o' clock in the afternoon, on my birthday, in St. Petersburg Fucking Russia, and some dude was pouring me free vodka in the middle of a store.  If there was a moment during this trip that would cause me to go expat, it was this one.

Over the next few days, we saw museums and cathedrals (and cathedrals and cathedrals...I swear, I'm common-law Orthodox at this point) and the Hermitage, which is basically Russia's answer to the Lourve, but housed in Catherine the Great's old castles.  (She had different rooms for each of her many "favorite men" hidden throughout the castles.  On a strictly unrelated note, she is my hero.) 

We also went to Beatles-themed pubs, shared cranberry  liquor with strangers, and ate pitas off the street.  My kind of city, St. Petersburg is.

I had a fantastic time and will definitely be back at some point in my life, but by the end of the trip I was kinda glad to get back.  St. Petersburg is a great escape, but I live in goddamn Moscow. 

Enough said.

UPDATE: I do want to be 18 again.

Ignore everything I said in the previous post.  I was completely wrong. 


Dorm life so totally rocks, dude!!

Well, okay, the pee thing still isn't cool.  Neither is the phlegm thing, and I really do miss having my own everything...

...okay, fine.  Dorm life still sucks.  BUT...

Every now and then an awesome day comes along, and it will change your life.  This day is filled with so little responsibility or movement of any sort that your bed actually asks for overtime.  By the end of it you feel too lazy to breathe, and will have looked at The Entire Internet.  For real.

This day was yesterday.  And it was glorious.

As happens, though, all that nothing caught up to us and eventually my roommate and I got hungry.  Going to the store was clearly 100% out of the question given its lack of proximity to the bed, so our options were limited.  We're creative girls, though, so we picked through the meager supplies of the room, and came up with a solution.

Pictured: The Solution

That, my friends, is Dorm Bisque.  Campbell's tomato soup, cheese, a Russian hot dog, and a can of goddamn corn. 

We made it.  We ate it.  We are proud.

Once I get back, I promise to be an adult again and pay electricity bills and "stop by the bank" and cook asparagus and whatnot, but damn...I'd forgotten about being 18.  You should try it.  It rocks.