I Always Got An M & M’s Blizzard

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Gentle Reader,

Y’all.

When I was little, every summer, my Gamma would register me for the Irwin County (Georgia) (The state, not the country, since THIS IS APPARENTLY MY LIFE, NOW…) Public Library Summer Reading Program.  Which to me was basically like a program that rewarded you for breathing.

Anyway, at the end of the program, we got coupons for Dairy Queen for successful completion.  Filling out the summer was time on the slip ‘n slide, fried chicken, and “jello in the special cups”.  (Don’t worry, those are in storage, Matthew.)  We also ate our meals at The Little Table And Chairs (also, in storage) and slept in The Tent at nights and were basically so dirty at the end of each day that we were hosed off instead of being carried inside for normal, human baths.  (I had a very fancy upbringing.)

This is my world, this is what I know.  These?  Are my people.  I love them.

So last night, I walked down Tverskaya Street (OF COURSE…) to a bar.  Where I sat at a table with a Brit who has lived in Dubai, France, parts of Africa, and is being transferred now to East Timor.  (To which I say, again, “OF COURSE”.)  Alongside her were an Uzbek who has lived in London and now in Russia (and she drives in Moscow, which makes her the bravest person I have ever met), an Aussie, a guy from the French Caribbean, a dual US/UK citizen (who has also lived in Alabama which is sorta like living in another country), a guy from Florida, and me.  ME.

How did this happen?  I mean, how does a girl like me get to this?  I welcome all answer submissions, because I’m fresh out.

Also at the bar I ordered a dirty vodka martini (you’ll want to put your drink down right about now, Ashley).  I received a dirty vodka martini made with vodka, vermouth, and olive oil.  (told you, dear)  So I’ll be modifying my drink order slightly from here out, because even I can’t convince myself that a martini needs a dash of salad dressing.

I gotta be real here.  I read about East Timor in my International Business Transactions class.  It’s a PLACE YOU READ ABOUT.  Not have drinks with someone last night who is EN ROUTE THERE RIGHT NOW.  Again.  HOW?

Anyway-I picked up the interior of the flat for you, because clearly that’s WAY more fascinating than Tverskaya after dark.  (In my defense, I don’t have my iPhone with me all the time right now because I don’t have a Russian telephone number yet, and I still haven’t figured out that I live somewhere that people might want to see via the actual, good, camera.)

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The other Wellie made it out of the suitcase alive.

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The “Auxilliary Dresser”.  (I was apparently in a dark mood as I was packing.)

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Where the magic happens.  (Note the very warm comforter.)

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View #1 of the Super-Sweet Bathroom.  Disorganized and whatnot, but sweet.  (Note the hairdryer and hot rollers.)

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View #2-The tub.  Source of hot water.  Glorious.

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And here we have my favorite triumvirate.  (Quadrumvirate?)  1-A refrigerator that actually makes things cold.  2-Ice cream.  3.  Vodka.  (Obvs.)  and 4.  THE ICE TRAYS!  (PLURAL!)

And finally, peeps who speak the language…a bit of reassurance, please?

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This is aloe vera (I think?)–but is it soap?  I’ve been using it to wash my dishes because I haven’t found Fairy yet.  Whatever, it makes bubbles and seems to make my dishes clean.

And with that, I have a student, so Imma close now.  School on Monday.  Then onto the more interesting things.  Somebody remind me to bring my camera!

I’m lucky, peeps.

Goodnight,

Wordie

 

 

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