I'm starting to write this post while everyone else is taking a smoke break in the stairwell. We're having a small party tonight for SRAS people, although the only people who've showed up have been a couple of Jorge's friends (a guy named Maksim and a girl named Dasha), so most of the party has consisted of me and Alex and Corinne eating snacks in the kitchen while Jorge, Liz, Maksim and Dasha smoke in the stairwell and wait for them to come back and chat for ten minutes or so before going back outside. I know I've eaten way too much at this party, and all we have are carbs. The spread for this evening includes a baguette and some kind of herbed cream/other soft cheese spread, pickle-flavored potato chips, Danish butter cookies and a tiny chocolate cake that comes conveniently pre-cut with each slice wrapped in wax paper. I've eaten about a third of the baguette and too many potato chips to justify; they're actually kind of disgusting, but I just can't stop eating them. And then Corinne and Liz broke out the wine. We have a Chilean cabernet sauvignon and some generic merlot, both of which are pretty good (again, as if I know anything about wine).
It is commonly agreed upon that wine-drunk is the best kind of drunk to be. I think, all told, I've had...maybe 8-10 ounces of wine (which is 2 and a half drinks, based on those posters all over the res halls at Stetson about drinking and stuff). So, you know, I'm feeling pretty good right about now. If I lay down, I ain't getting back up, in any case. I'm not drunk, but I'm getting there, and if Alex breaks out the vodka...actually, I'll probably abstain because we don't have anything to mix it with and I don't like straight vodka. Jorge is planning to go hit up the gay clubs with Dasha later; I probably won't go with. I don't want to go back outside, and I don't really know Dasha well enough to feel comfortable chilling with her while Jorge is off dancing with dudes, because I'm certainly not going to dance. I'm not at home on the dancefloor even when it's full of straight dudes, and going out there and flailing around like a frog in a blender when all the guys around me play for the other team seems almost pointless. I figure I have another 90-some days here, that's plenty of time to go experience the Blue Oyster.
Right now, I'm hiding in my room because if I stay in the kitchen I'll just eat all of the pickle chips. They're really gross, but I have this problem where if I'm sitting within arm's reach of potatoes I will consume them all, if left to my own devices. It doesn't matter how good they are. Gross vinegar-and-dill-flavored chips? Nom nom nom. Cold, soggy fries from the grill or Newton's? Give 'em here. It's a pathological addiction. The first step is admitting it I have a problem; unfortunately, it's not a problem that will be fixed while I'm here, because Russia is also addicted to potatoes. They're dirt-cheap and they're used in most dishes, especially salads. I actually bought stuff to make vinigret (Russian salad made of cooked beets, carrots, and potatoes, raw onion, sauerkraut, a little oil and balsamic vinegar--it's delicious and I love it) for tonight, although I didn't end up having time, and also Jorge made some soup that he's storing in the big pot because all the tupperware is being used. The way vinigret is made involves boiling the beets, carrots and potatoes for 45 minutes, then dicing the cooked root vegetables and putting them in a big bowl with everything else. I don't know if I can fit a whole beet, carrot, and potato into our smaller cooking pot. I'm also kind of pissed that I had to buy 450 grams of sauerkraut, as that was the smallest container they had at Stockmann; I'm going to use maybe 100 grams of it, and then I don't know what to do with the rest. Maybe buy more veggies and make more vinigret. It'll definitely get eaten.
Wine makes me sleepy, and I'm not sure I can stay awake/keep up with the conversation in the kitchen. It's after midnight now, and I don't know if Jorge has talked Dasha into going clubbing with him yet; I might just change quickly into the long johns I'm wearing for pajamas and go to bed soon. Maybe. At some point I need to throw some money at Liz, since she's paid for most of the wine consumed this evening.
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