So this is what cold feels like. I thought I knew. I thought I understood but apparently I had made a grave error in judgment. Jenna and I had decided to spend the afternoon at Izmaylovskaya Park shopping for souvenirs and before we even made it to the metro station we knew it was bound to be a painful mistake. The real Russian cold was enough to make me feel as though the tips of my fingers had been cut off and were bleeding through my insulated wool gloves. I wasn’t sure what hurt more, my eyes that felt as though they might implode from the blistering gusts of wind or the pounding of my head that reminded me every few minutes of the previous evening’s events. Last night we came up with another way to survive here and it involved getting Greek – as in TOGA. It was eventful to say the least yet I was one of the few people who managed to enjoy a guiltless good time. There is something to be said for a lack of personal accountability and the joy of waking up without the need to berate one’s self for an evening of bad choices. That being said, I was as Lexi put it, a ‘Hot Mess’ who from what I recall had a blast. (Whether or not it was a good idea there are plenty of photos to fill in the gaps of my memory!) 
It is interesting to observe the level of leniency given towards personal behavior here. It is become clear that we are all just trying to get by anyway we can. We are just trying to make it through and so in that way it makes perfect sense to cut up our bed sheets, clear out a liquor store, and spend an evening playing frat games - banishing all talk of life, art or the imminent future.
It is interesting to observe the level of leniency given towards personal behavior here. It is become clear that we are all just trying to get by anyway we can. We are just trying to make it through and so in that way it makes perfect sense to cut up our bed sheets, clear out a liquor store, and spend an evening playing frat games - banishing all talk of life, art or the imminent future.