Woof, what a day.
I've spent it trying vainly to recover from last night, while feebley defending myself from my host-mother's hangover cures. She still got me to take a shot of pickle brine after a shot of wine, but that was it. Not that it really mattered what I put into my stomach this morning, as it all came back up anyway.
Yesterday started innocent enough. We had a tour of a Russian Kindergarden, and after that we went to the Banya for Andrushka's birthday party. The banya was sick. It had three huge rooms, one with a pool table, another with a dining room and stereo, and then the sauna/pool room. We threw down pretty hard, I have no memory of leaving the place. My memory comes back into focus a few hours later, when we met up with some ACTR students from Moscow who were in town visiting. We assembled at the Shesh-Besh restaurant and then proceded to a bar. My memory slips back out of focus again at this point. All I can remember are random images...but not too many. I have no recollection of getting home, except that I fell out of the taxi, and I only remember that because of the big bruise on my arms and knees.
So, today, of course, was miserable. This marks the third alcohol related vomit session in my life. Dan Paggi veterens may recall my last episode following the Sleaze Ball freshman year. That time it was Tequila, this time my best friend and worst enemy, vodka, was to blame. It was terrible. But I'm feeling better now, just a little headache and a little weak. Maybe I'll take it a little easier on my birthday...