Today I saw a pug in a luminous green shellsuit, bimbling around the grounds of St Catherine's Palace. It looked ridiculous, possibly even more ridiculous than me in my Peruvian hat, Chinese coat combo, although it's a close call. Not looking ridiculous (all the time) is one of the reasons I'm kinda looking forward to going home. That and catching up on a year's worth of stuff. And cheese. And maybe some of you guys (which reminds me, I probably don't have your number any more, if you could drop me a line with it that would be cool, unless I don't know you, in which case don't bother, I'd find it a bit too eerie if you managed to stalk me down).
Had my official last night two nights ago. My Trans-Siberian crew did Secret Santa (I got Chloe and enormous spring - Nothing says Merry Christams like an enormous spring), cruised around Petrograd in a pink limo (classy) before going clubbing (unreal, you wouldn't believe me if I told you, so I won't).
Since then, aside from a little bit of sight seeing, I've pretty much just been thinking about roast dinners and stilton.
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