nothing makes sense ever

Okay, so I haven’t posted in like three months. My profuse apologies. Forgive me while I vomit up a short list of my activities over the past several weeks, a.k.a. things I would advise you do while in Russia:

1) Make new friends on the street. Hang out with them for 14 hours at a time with no specified goals or plans. Be open to climbing through bogs, getting two-inch gel manicures, and watching badly dubbed American horror films at midnight at the theater.

2) Find and become a regular at a Turkish cafe called “Meat House,” but only if the M on the sign was clearly stolen from the McDonalds down the road during construction. The main goal: find wifi. If you find a Meat House in another country or without the McD’s signature symbol, enter at your own risk if you’re not into the whole gay club scene thing.

3) Start learning another foreign language on the side so that you don’t go completely insane.

4) Get into dance-offs with random strangers who sass you at the club. Because if you win. Well. There is no greater victory, my friend.

5) Find translating/editing work. Just don’t expect punctuality from your coworkers. Even if they expect punctuality from you. I still can’t figure out whether or not time is actually important in this culture. It seems like all the important things are left until the last minute, and really insignificant things are suddenly NECESSARY RIGHT NOW OR WITHIN FIVE MINUTES. With all due respect, Russia. Maybe some day all this will suddenly become crystal clear.

6) Do buy the entire No Doubt/Gwen Stefani discography for three dollah at the store. Don’t be too disappointed when it says that ‘The Sweet Escape’ is included and it isn’t. You can’t have everything in life, especially not in a country where all CDs are pirated, so get over it.

7) DON’T be afraid to say no to your Aunt when she keeps giving you food. Because no matter how many times you say no, she’ll give it to you anyway and expect you to finish it. And you will not be able to breathe afterward. Take an inhaler with you or something. I don’t know how to get avoid this one.

8) DON’T put bananas and triugolniki in the fridge together. Because banana-flavored pirozhki are like the most awkward taste I’ve ever experienced. It basically would have been better not to eat at all.

   +     =

Everything is much better now that the RHCP are on my iPod and now that I’m not as sick, but I also don’t have any food in my house except paté and chicken bullion and half of a pomegranate. 30rock isn’t quite as funny in Russian, but it works. I am переживаюing. I’ll post something more legitimate and more feeling later.

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5 Comments

Filed under culture, Food, Misc

5 responses to “nothing makes sense ever

  1. Carolyn Harris

    OMGosh!!!! You are sooooo funny! Do I know talent when I see it…read it…hear it??? YES I DO!!! I can’t wait to hear about all of these wild experiences when you get home, and don’t forget to get some pics of the people, places, and things that go along w/the experience. This is too much…no actually, it’s not enough. I could read your stories “till the cow comes home!” Be careful of what you’re forced to eat, and please stay healthy (will you be a Ruskie blimp when you come home?)Luv you Miss Thang! xxx ooo

  2. Melanie

    I’m not sure if my favorite bullet point is the one about the Auntie food-fest, or the one about the banana-ish flavored-ish pirozhki. Laughing myself silly because I can just imagine the scene.

  3. WHICH NEW LANGUAGE? Also, how abouts we put some blogging on that there list, missy. 😉 (By which I mean inventing cocktails for all the fictional characters we wish we could marry)

    Love you miss you come home now

  4. Izzie

    I miss you Soph!! I wish you could come home and we could just be crayzay all day! When you do get home, I’ll be like 10 feet tall, and everyone will think I am Sara Bellum! OH! POWER PUFFS!! WHY??!?!?! I want you, and when I want something, I want it NOW….. I miiiiss you and I looooove you!

    PS, send me some pudding…… yum!

  5. Izzie

    Of course I would not want to be Sara Bellum…. I am already Buttercup.

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