Alright, so after we had our five-days-of-gifting, we went out on the actual night of our anniversary. We got lucky and actually had the night off (for the past few weeks we've just been testing students for a few hours at our old school and usually just bum around), so we took a vodka shot and went out to our first restaurant.
I had a real hankering for Italian food, so I googled "Italian food in Moscow" and picked the first link that came up. It had good reviews, so we got dressed, we showed up... buuuut we just weren't feeling it. We had saved a good chunk of money to spend, so it wasn't exactly the prices (but goddam does it hurt spending $20 on a drink), but the atmosphere was weird and this pair of guys behind us kept staring at us because we were speaking English. I don't know. We just weren't into it.
So, and this is because we are classy folk, we ditched the nice place and went down the street to a Chili's we saw and we had such a good time.
But after a few hours, Chili's wanted to close and ya know, we hadn't had dessert yet so we decided to continue our booze-fueled date next door at the cleverly named "Restaurant".
At first, Restaurant was just a creepy, empty restaurant, but on a trip to the bathroom (which started innocently when I noticed the busts of famous Russian writers and began to follow them), I stumbled upon a literal rat race which was equal parts disturbing and upsetting.
So date night ended with Ben declaring we needed to adopt the rats, and an extra bill for an "oreo" cake (we knew it was too good to be true, but we tried). Oh well. That's how it is, when you live young and fast... I guess?
As you can see, I'm holding quite a few bags. Every once and awhile, one of the makeup store chains here in Moscow has this insane sale where (if you borrow your administrator's store card) you can get 50% off of anything.
So I went bananas. Then we went to dinner.
Look at Dostoevsky bein' all shy in the corner.
Ok, so I took a bathroom selfie. But my legs were looking skinny so I thought I should document it.
This is a picture of what Ben looks like riding the metro. In case you've been wondering.
Oh my goodness. These dogs. They're such a thing in Russia, though nobody will tell me why. But every one who walks by, rubs the nose, the foot and the back leg.
And I know this is a couple of days late but...
Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.
Yeah? Any of you into it? I have been freaking out all week. Uggggh, what's going to happen?!