One reason why I love my friends
They are just as dorky as I am. Here is an invite I just received:
"COME TO OUR Maslenitsa PARTY! (Ма́сленица)
One of the saddest things about the post-holiday season is its lack of, well, holidays. In their infinite wisdom, the Russians have come up with a solution to this problem: Maslenitsa (moss-LENN-its-uh), also known as Butter Day, on which they serve massive amounts of blini (thin Russian pancakes) and weird Russian beverages while celebrating the arrival of spring. We have chosen to follow their lead, although we have decided not to follow the Russian custom of setting up a fifty-foot tall greased pole, placing a suckling pig on the top, and suggesting that all male guests attempt to scale said pole in their underwear (winner keeps the pig). We're really sorry to disappoint but we just don't have the ceiling height for it.
There will, however, be copious amounts of blini, in addition to other Russian and non-Russian delicacies. Anyone complaining about the Russian salad will be sent to the gulag.
Be warned that the landlords hold to the old Russian tradition of keeping a wintertime house approximately eighty degrees. Make sure that you have a short-sleeved shirt on underneath all the layers or you may pass out from heat exhaustion. No, we are not joking.
After everyone is adequately stuffed, board games will ensue, so bring your favorite! Friends, roommates and significant others all welcome."
My responce:
Oh Hell да!
(PS this is two roommates: One a Russophile for some reason, the other a former Peace Corps chick who lived in SPB for a time. So the saying is true, "birds of a feather flock togehter."
"COME TO OUR Maslenitsa PARTY! (Ма́сленица)
One of the saddest things about the post-holiday season is its lack of, well, holidays. In their infinite wisdom, the Russians have come up with a solution to this problem: Maslenitsa (moss-LENN-its-uh), also known as Butter Day, on which they serve massive amounts of blini (thin Russian pancakes) and weird Russian beverages while celebrating the arrival of spring. We have chosen to follow their lead, although we have decided not to follow the Russian custom of setting up a fifty-foot tall greased pole, placing a suckling pig on the top, and suggesting that all male guests attempt to scale said pole in their underwear (winner keeps the pig). We're really sorry to disappoint but we just don't have the ceiling height for it.
There will, however, be copious amounts of blini, in addition to other Russian and non-Russian delicacies. Anyone complaining about the Russian salad will be sent to the gulag.
Be warned that the landlords hold to the old Russian tradition of keeping a wintertime house approximately eighty degrees. Make sure that you have a short-sleeved shirt on underneath all the layers or you may pass out from heat exhaustion. No, we are not joking.
After everyone is adequately stuffed, board games will ensue, so bring your favorite! Friends, roommates and significant others all welcome."
My responce:
Oh Hell да!
(PS this is two roommates: One a Russophile for some reason, the other a former Peace Corps chick who lived in SPB for a time. So the saying is true, "birds of a feather flock togehter."