Сюрприииз!

Hangoveeeeeeeer. It was my friend Kiia's birthday on Thursday so we decided to throw a surprise party for her last night. Her reaction was bare hilare, she literally had nooo clue as to what was going on. Somehow she didn't find out or guess, even up to the point where she came to the flat. Phoebe took Kiia out for cocktails to give us time to get ready and the plan was that they'd come and pick me up on the way to a fictitious club. Phoebe had a stroke of genius for the name of this fabled club – Мой Дом. Very swish! Even with 30+ people ssshh-ing loudly in the kitchen, the fact that I was supposedly sitting in the kitchen in the dark, and the mystery club with a suspect name, Kiia didn't catch on. The actual surprise was hilarious, people leaning in with party hats on and cheesy grins. Everyone arrived quite early which was good in terms of getting people drunk and lairy for Kiia's arrival.

After the party we left to go to a club called Metro which according to Phoebe's guide book is a really cool place to go for teens. It was flipping huge, with four floors and horrible carpets. For those of you who have had the pleasure of going to Liquid in Nuneaton, imagine that but bigger and with fewer Russians. The music was hit and miss, but Chris bought me shots so it was aaaall OK in the end. I think, possibly, I may have been drunk... A lot of people and a lot of alcohol were involved. Unexpected pairings, a fight, several falls and deep conversations were the order of the night. Scaaaandalous!

We came back home a really, really, really long way at about 5am. Ah that sinking feeling when you see Nevskii Prospekt! And then realise you're on the wrong bloody end of it. To make things even better, MacDonalds was closed! Where on earth was I to get my чикенбууууургер now?! Me, Phoebe, Eli, Karin and David went back to the flat to wait for the metro to open again and get some munch and a cuppa tea. Phoebe went to bed and I got my usual drunken 'let's fry an egg' urge. I proceeded to burn some toast and chuck a load of cheese and fried eggs over it. Probably the first time I've ever successfully fried an egg. On a spinney office chair, wasted. As in I was on the chair drunk and cooking an egg, the egg wasn't whirling around on the chair with a bottle of vodka in hand. It was bitter-sweet though – soooomebody, somebody who demanded the tea and edibilities in the first place, was too sleepy to have any and had a nap on the table instead. Tsh, some people.

In other news, met a random Russian man in the street and exchanged numbers, I've become addicted to Teremok in place of fags and I REALLY WANT SOME ROLLERSKATES!

Anyway, I'm losing the will to live. Au revoir mes amis! I'm actually going to be a tourist and go to the Hermitage tomorrow, so might actually put useful stuff on here. Probs won't though.

Me, my hilarious face and the looovely Kiia.