You are what you eat.

Whew. Sorry it’s been so long since I posted, but there’s been a lot going on here! Charles and I finally made it to Ikea and purchased some basics. Some plastic cups and bowls, and some silverware. The main reason we went, though, was for a mattress. Not a whole big mattress, though. We just needed something to make our bed softer. It’s a pull-out couch, but it’s basically just a wooden frame with some quilting batting and velvet upholstering. Velvet and I do not agree. And even after we piled all of our bedding on the bed and then slept on top, I was waking up with tender places on my hips and shoulders, from sleeping on my side. I told Charles we were either moving to an apartment with a real bed, or we were making a trip to Ikea. And I’m very happy with the results! The only sad thing about Ikea was that they didn’t have macaroni and cheese. What kind of Ikea doesn’t have macaroni and cheese? But they had meatballs, so Charles was happy. We got a roll-up mattress thingy that’s very comfy, and we got a pair of sheets with pillow cases and a duvet cover. It feels like it’s our bed, now.
And just in time! I got an amazing night’s sleep that night, and then woke up sick as a dog the next day. Charles has already made a couple runs to the Aptyeka (apothecary. One might call it a pharmacy.) for the Russian equivalents of Dayquil, Tums, Sucrets and Theraflu. He’s had to learn some new words in Russian, like “heartburn.” The cool thing about Russia is its bountiful opportunities for hydration. Every kind of juice you could ever crave. I drink about 2 liters of water everyday, in addition to all the grape, strawberry, and pineapple juice I want. And I’m spending a lot of time in our newly softened bed. Thank goodness for Ikea.
Yesterday we made it to Stockman’s, which is a department store that caters mostly to foreigners, and they have a grocery store inside. They had some of the staples we were dying for, like soy sauce and skim milk. Skim milk! Can you believe it? It comes from Italy, if you can believe that. And even though it’s a pretty expensive store, sometimes mac and cheese is worth paying three dollars for. I’ve been feeling very much like a fish out of water lately because I haven’t been able to cook much. I suppose this sounds very silly and petty, but it’s true so I’ll say it. I treat homesickness with food. Now that I know I have a box of mac and cheese in our cabinet, I can make whatever I want, and be happy with it. For the first week or so of being here, I was tempted to not eat rather than face the disappointment of something being really gross. I ate a lot of bread and cheese. Anyway, tonight I’m making my potato soup, and whether or not it tastes as good as it usually does, I can be happy.
Oh, I mentioned the things I wanted to talk about last time. So, the first thing is, I lost my tooth again. I went to the dentist the day before we left, just to have him check up on me and he cleared me for a summer in Russia, and said my tooth would be fine. So I went crazy in Germany. They have such good bread. Even German airline food is good. So I just finished my bread and butter on the airplane, and I was eyeing Charles’. He finally consented to trade his bread and butter for my dessert, so I took a giant bite, and as soon as I bit into the bread, I felt my tooth snap out. It took everything I had not to cry or throw a hissy fit on the plane, because I already hadn’t slept for over 24 hours and I had whiplash and all I wanted was to eat some bread and butter. So I took some deep breaths and told myself to behave, and meanwhile the bread was still hanging out of my mouth. Charles thought I was being a little absurd about the bread, so he turned to me and said “Make sure you savor that bread. Yeah, don’t worry about chewing, just suck on it for awhile.” If looks could kill, I’d be a widow. Luckily, Charles knows a really good dentist here in Moscow, so he’s got me an appointment tomorrow for a new tooth. I’m going to start naming them, because I’ve had so many that I’m having a hard time keeping track of them all. This will be Lucy IV.
Charles took me to one of his old favorite restaurants. It looked exactly like I imagined The Molly Campbell looking, which was pretty cool. The menu was kind of weird. Charles ordered “Beeznas Lanch,” which means business lunch. I was very interested in the part of the menu labeled “Myeksikyen.” Mexican food in Moscow? What’s sketchy about that? I ordered something that Charles said translated literally into “the warm heart of the muchacho.” It just sounded promising. The menu labeled it as a burrito, so I was kind of surprised when they brought it out. It was an eggplant. Personally, I’ve never trusted eggplants. Very dishonest vegetables. For one thing, they’re really fruit, not vegetable. Also, when you pick them up, they feel completely different from what you think they’ll feel like. So I generally avoid eggplants. But I was a big girl and I tried it, and it wasn’t great, but it was not the death of me. They basically sliced the eggplant like a fan, and then grilled/fried/baked (who can tell with eggplant?) it and put some tomato slices and cheese between each slice to melt. I added sour cream, much to the waitress’ bewilderment, and the result was not bad. Russians love sour cream. I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.
This has very quickly turned into a very long post, so I think I’ll call it quits here and just close by saying happy birthday to my sister Emile! Who’s turning 21 tomorrow! Good grief. Em, you’re so stinking old. I love you!