Blog-nill Busyness

This has probably been one of the longest blackouts in my the history of my blog. Fairly certain of it. I would say that it’s not because I’ve been insanely busy, but because I have FELT extremely busy. You know how some days you feel like there couldn’t possibly be enough time for all the things you have to do, then you manage to do them all and feel so exhausted from the achievement that you plop into bed early? It hasn’t been like that either.

 

But I have felt really busy, because I am writing my BA in English Literature, and baby-sitting two wonderful children, writing poetry again, playing Skyrim and trying to use any left-over seconds and minutes on spending time with my husband, because it is what holds me together.

 

I realised yesterday that certain things just go once you’re too busy. Amazing super-hero couples who get children start slacking off in areas of their lives where they were always on top off the things before. Organised young women become less organised. OCD young men start realising that maybe their disorder wasn’t so serious, because the mess doesn’t bother them anymore.

 

Here’s a list of things I realised go when you’re “too busy”:

 

1. Blog.

Don’t think I need to say much here. Unless you are a very popular blogger, whose life it is to blog, who spends a minimum of two hours a day on their blog and commenting and networking… you’ll probably stop blogging for a while. Strangely enough, it’s when life gives you more to blog about that you don’t have the time to blog about it. (Though I very much doubt that anyone would WANT me to blog about my 25 page essay on Shakespeare’s The Tempest and the various forms of critique it has been subject to. Though it’s actually really interesting. It is!)

 

2. Social life

“I would love to come, but…” becomes your new catch-phrase. Often you would love to come, but there is also a certain relief in being able to hide yourself under heaps of busyness and let the rest of the world socialise with itself for a while. They’ll be fine. They may accuse you of being a hermit and boring and that you don’t love them anymore, but they’ll come around once you’re out of the bubble again. I hope.

 

3. Cleaning

Now that you don’t have people over anymore, and you are either out of the house doing busy things, or in front of your computer doing busy things, or in your bed reading about busy things… You stop noticing what your floor and your bathroom looks like. I remember very well indeed, days and weeks when I had absolutely nothing to do, which would tend to end in someone or other coming home and me trying to subtly get them to notice how shiny the kitchen had become while they were out, or how the lamps are a bit brighter, and the toothbrushes whiter… When I am restless and bored, I clean. But when I’m busy, I clearly don’t.

 

4. Personal hygiene

Or grooming, maybe I should say. Though showering becomes one of those “did we shower yesterday or the day before? Can’t remember. Can’t be bothered. I’m probably clean” things. But plucking your eyebrows turns into this ludicrous waste of time, attempting to make your hair look a little less like a sad dog before you leave the house is a no go, and whether your clothes are matchy or just serve the purpose that is currently required of them (right now warm, waterproof and covering all my rude bits) is not really a question anymore: the matchy goes.

 

5. Sleep

This should be further up the list, probably. The busier we get, the less we see those few hours of empty brain-ness as time-wasting crap. The problem is of course that the busier you are, the more tired you are, and the less sleep you allow yourself, till you just want to cry because you’re so tired but you just have to finish writing this assignment first…

 

6. Food

First, you stop cooking anything complicated that will take too long. Then, you stop cooking all the meals you used to. Finally, you live on snacks and toast. Or snack. Singular.

 

7. Health and fitness

Let’s stop thinking of this list in chronological order, because this should really go at the top. If we have any excuse in our lives to stop working out, we usually do. But with the busy comes this feeling that we can’t allow ourselves to be ill, to have colds, headaches, muscle-aches… So out of the house you go, face imploding, because you are too busy to take a break and let your body get back to normal.

 

8. More stuff

What goes for you when you’re busy? What are the first things you give up/neglect when life comes around and starts getting you terribly involved in living it? Besides your blog, of course… say your blog… it’s not just me, say it… please…

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Monsatan… Monsanta… Monsanto

I’m sure none of us have done ANYTHING on our computers the last few months without reading the word “Monsanto” amongst things like “super-duper-evil”, “worse than Hitler”, “OMG! I can’t believe how terrible these people are!”, “Boycott them or die!” and so forth. Yes. I can no longer log onto facebook without the majority of my friends having posted something about how this terribly nasty, BIG corporation (you know how them being big and making money means they are evil, right?) is taking over the world one grain at a time. If you have managed to miss this, good for you.

Because this Monsanto-fever is giving rise to something else, something which has killed an awful lot of people over thousands of years. Wherever it has reared its ugly head, people drop like flies. This little something, I like to call: self-righteousness.

Yes indeed. That thing that makes a person walk up to someone and tell them how despicable they are because they haven’t made the same life-choices. How selfish they are for drinking bottled water. What a terrible pregnant mother they are for eating a single Dorito. How can they live with themselves, these terrible people who don’t walk to work, or don’t grow their own organic veggies, or don’t breastfeed their children till they’re 3-years-old?

A deep, glowing belief that your way of life is the only right and the only GOOD way is what has led to a great many “events” in world history: The Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, The Russian Revolution and the Holocaust, to name a few. It would not surprise me if the mind-numbing sharing and reposting of things like this, this and this soon turn into “demonstration” in the form of throwing stones, bombs, graffiti etc. Perhaps some nice anti-GMO person will start shooting Monsanto hot-shots, because for some reason they think this will make the world a better place.

But hang on. The same people who are so against what Monsanto are doing today, aren’t those the ones who wanted to… what was it again… oh yes, end world hunger. Because that is the main reason for GMO in the first place! Creating enough resilient, hefty crops, that give farmers in third-world countries food and an income? Or, all these self-righteous, angry, first-world people can go the f*** down to Africa and India and into China and start helping the farmers for free, swatting bugs to avoid pesticides, farming acre upon acre of land without heavy machinery… no, but it is so much easier to just shout at some common scape-goat than to actually do something to fix the situation.

This is what Monsanto’s home-page looks like:

Monsanta 

(The morning of the 13th of June, it took me forever to get to their homepage. It would not load. Is it possible that some well-meaning anti-GMO activist feels that Monsanto are so big and evil they do not deserve a website, or to tell their side of the story?)

This is what one of the thousands of “Monsanto is the evil of the world and the spawn of Satan” web-pages looks like:

Monsatan

(Interestingly enough, the BBC are now “biased” because they made a “pro-GMO” documentary. Up until now, the BBC have been professional, the best in the biz, world-famous for their unbiased reporting.  But if they do not agree with such a large group of people, who are well-informed of who Monsanto really are, thanks to reposting stuff on facebook, they must now have turned to the dark side. I don’t blame them. We have cookies.)

And this is what good ol’ neutral Wikipedia has to say on the matter:

Monsanto

One great problem is that people continue to share these things, huffing, puffing, gasping and frowning at the audacity of this company’s actions, without actually trying to find anything out for themselves. If they do, they go to “reliable” websites, with words like “green“, “organic“, “natural” etc. in the name. Because if it says Monsanto is evil, it must be true.

I am not saying anything either way. I know that by now, I would have to read for a week straight to get any unbiased information about this company. I know that even if I did, I could not convince its supporters that it is evil, nor its opponents that it is good. Because people see what they want to see, no matter what is actually there. But I still believe that self-righteousness is a much greater killer than any evil corporation ever has been. So far.

Contemporary me.

Hello my darlings! Have been a tad inactive here again I see, so since my brain is slightly fried with exhaustion and school-work and I have to get up in less than six hours, I won’t write anything profound at all. Just a list. (You know how I love my lists). So here are a few things that are relevant to my life as of right now;

E-cigarettes. These handy little thingumabobs enable you to smoke indoors without actually smoking, to smoke around other people without blowing harmful second-hand smoke into their pretty little faces, and even though there has not been extensive tests and research made yet regarding their harmful effects on those who use them, they are sure to be less harmful than cigarettes. Plus they almost like look real cigarettes, so you don’t have to feel like an idiot using them.

Dark Angel. A tv-series from 2000 starring Jessica Alba. I never thought much of Alba as an actress before, and though I do still feel like she isn’t the most outstanding of actresses, she is certainly good enough to do what she does. She is also very very attractive. Like very. The series is fun, it’s about a post-crisis – of the global financial kind – and Alba is one of several genetically modified children which have escaped from a lab-facility where they were being trained into super-soldiers. If nothing else, this series is a fun glimpse into how much of the 90ies that were still left in 2000 – and how much of the 80ies which had seeped its way into the 90ies.

Christmas. Don’t think anyone will need a summary of what that is. Or I hope not. I’m usually not a big fan of doing anything Christmassy pre-December but seeing as how the 1st of Advent was on the 27th, I went to my little-sisters and we baked ginger-snaps and lusse-katter all day… or at least 4 hours of it. We forgot to put on Christmas-songs, we made roughly 80 lusse-katt buns (that’s a LOT) and we went and got pizza afterwards, real thin-crust ones with ruccola and prosciutto on top. It was a lovely day. Next stop; toffee and chocolates at my place.

Tests. I have three major ones coming up soon – two of them tomorrow – and I’m getting rather nervous about it. I know I’ll do well, at least with the English ones, most likely with the Swedish, yet I always get nervous before tests. And maybe that is the secret to why I do well, I don’t get so overconfident in my own abilities that I neglect studying or preparing myself. But I’m going to be holding my thumbs and crossing my fingers, as always. If you want to say some kind of little prayer for me, to God, pasta, Eddie or whomever you believe in, that’d be welcome.

Dreaming. Ever since I moved to this flat a few months back, I’ve had lots and lots of dreams, mostly weird ones, only one or two actual night-mares, and not that many that I’ve woken from in a happy or blissful state. Just strange dreams, where tons of things happen, I wake up several times during the night and only remember scattered details for the most part. It makes it harder for me to go to sleep, it makes me more tired, more out of it during the day. But I’m hoping it will stop soon. Maybe when I finally get down to repainting the bedroom.

Working out. See, the flat gets rather cold at times, and my solution to this (because our radiators are pretty much cranked to the max, so it’s not like we can turn it up any more) is doing a few sit-ups, squats, shaky and pathetic push-ups, etc. If it looks extra cold outside, I’ll work out a bit before I step outside, to make sure my pulse gets up and my system is on the go already. If my toes are too cold and it’s bedtime, I just bounce around a bit so I’m nice and toasty instead of curling up and shivering under the blankets. So my solution to heating problems, which will cost you nothing and get you fit, is just to work out a bit.

Cheese. To counter-act my work out (because for every healthy thing you do you should also do something unhealthy, yin-yang balance kind of thing *coughs*) I’ve started over-indulging in cheese. I just wish someone would help me by eating the cheese before I can get to it. I’ve had the kittens help me out a bit but too much dairy isn’t good for their tummies. Well it’s not good for mine either of course. But you get me. So, the general obtaining of cheese has to be stopped for my own good!

Books. I’m currently trying to finish the last of the Harry Potter series (Don’t hurt me! I can’t explain how I haven’t read it yet! It was an accident!) but I’m only a third into it because for Swedish we had to pick one out of five classic novels and I chose “Pride and Prejudice” (translated into Swedish of course) because I’ve read that before, I own the English version, I’ve seen the movie and so on, basically it felt like a good choice because I already know what I need to know about it in order to discuss the book. Yet my honesty forces me to re-read it for this assignment. And then there’s “Rant” by Chuck Palahnuik (< = dude who wrote Fight Club) which I haven’t even touched yet, because I haven’t had the time.

What has there been a lot of/ too much of in your life of late?

A little speck of dirt west of here

So this time I was thinking my excuse could be “there’s nothing to write about!” but then I realized there always is, you just have to decide that what you have to say isn’t as boring as you think it is. So that’s what I’m going to do. This is a post that I’ve been planning to write ever since before I left Newfoundland but for some reason I can’t explain it hasn’t happened yet. But it’s happening today!

 

Things I miss about Newfoundland

  1. The wind – it’s always surrounding you, pushing you back, shoving you forward, making your hair stick in the lip-gloss that you so foolishly thought to wear that night. It creates noise in the emptiest of spaces and a friend which is either bothering or comforting depending on the situation. Sure, with fall there’s quite a lot of wind in Sweden too, but it’s not the same.
  2. The people – I think everyone who has met Newfoundlanders can agree on that they stand apart with a nationality all of their own. Friendly people, crazy people, artistic people, often all three in one. They can be the most down to earth and sarcastic hard-working old men you know, of the most dreamy and hipster young girls. Whatever else, Newfoundlanders care. Sometimes with the frustrating nosiness of a Jane Austen damsel, sometimes with the angry passion of someone way too drunk on Lambs, but they do care. And if they don’t, they make damn sure you understand how much they don’t care about caring. And my friends, I don’t even have words to express how much I miss them.
  3. The junk-food – Oh Ziggy’s. Oh A&W. Oh Dairy Queen and Wendy’s. Swede’s might have a lot of food-culture and a lot of variation but we have not perfected the deep-fried greasiness that is at the heart and soul of a proper Newfie stogging-place. So in the middle of the night in Stockholm, drunk as a kite and dying for a dirty scoff, where do you go? That question has yet to find a good answer.
  4. My job – The difference between the job I – sort of – have right now and the job I had at Second Cup is miles apart. I loved almost everyone I worked with, here they’re a strange mix of crazy, disinterested or just downright annoying. I felt pride in what I did there, here I feel ashamed almost every time I serve a guest anything off the menu. I enjoyed the atmosphere created by the freshly ground coffee and soft jazz, here I want to tear my ears off when the same hit-cd plays for the 10th time over and the stench of something I’ve yet to locate in the kitchen slaps me in the face. Until I find another job I can not possibly be content to leave Second Cup behind :/
  5. The side-walks – yes, I know, I’m insane. When have I ever complained as much about the grey pathways of a city as when I lived in St. John’s? Yet the side-walks here are uneventful and even, without that constant risk of hooking your heel in a crack or stumbling on a piece of gravel the size of your head. (And I know that’s not gravel. You don’t have to point that out. But in St. John’s, that is gravel.) Where’s the life-and-death adventure of taking a stroll now?
Things I do not miss about Newfoundland
  1. Most of the weather – A lot of the time except for on some rare summer days, the St. John’s weather was crap. The wind which I loved so much would combine itself with a heavy downpour or smudgy fog or why not that wonderful sleet or rain-mixed snow? And then it would proceed to confuse us for the rest of the day, or weeks, with its unpredictability.
  2. The cheese – Except for on a poutine, most of the cheese was kind of like plastic and very expensive. What sane person would pay for a piece of expensive plastic on their bread? I never said I was sane.
  3. George Street on a weekend – Don’t get me wrong. The Levee at 345 is really awesome, a tiny late-night show at CBTG’s is great, but George Street on a Saturday around 11pm? Hates it. The population of the street around this time is either failed attempts at hipster-guys, i-love-hockey-so-much-i-will-wear-it-all-over-my-body guys, these-jeans-will-render-me-barren guys or the endless stream of fake blondes in the little black dress which barely covers their private parts on the wobbly heels. (The only kind of female who can get attracted to above mentioned boys, and even they need a solid doze of some disgusting alcohol in them before this happens.)
  4. Sears – Aaauuuuuugggghhhhh!!!!! I have to admit, and I am very embarrassed to do so, that even I have every once in a while in a moment of weakness, bought something at Sears. But just passing through it you get harassed by loud shirts, even louder over-sized underwear, angry old women and furious little children, all of which appear very threatening and like their deepest wish is to cause you bodily harm. Let us not mention Dollorama. This might be even worse actually.
Having been away for quite some time, it’s easier to look back and see what you actually miss and what you just thought you missed until you received the blessing of being absent from it for a while. What do you miss/hate the most about the place you live/have lived when you are gone?

The Four Seasons

No, I’m not writing about the Vivaldi composition. Well,  I could link it to you for sure, but that’s not really the theme here. I would have to do a lot more research to be able to write an entire blogpost about that. What I meant to say is, the seasons are a’changing now. In Sweden at least, summer has with certainty and determination taken the giant step into fall, with all things, good and bad, in tow. So without further ado, I present to you, a little something about what I think about when I think about the Four Seasons.

 

Spring.

I feel that spring brings out the child in us all. Yes, we become wild and crazy to break free from a long and hard winter, but in a soft and kind way. Everything seems brighter, softer yet with more contrast. The colours are vibrant yet natural, gentle enough that they won’t scare a doe or frighten a hare that peaks through the greenery. For me as a child, spring always meant Easter with all its joys. Egg-hunts, egg-eating, egg-boiling, egg-painting, egg-cracking. Chocolate and candy in giant colourful papier-mache containers. Decorations galore. Sour herring on hard-bread with gräddfil. And more eggs. Oh the special sort of magic there was for me in that early morning, sneaking around the house in the hope to catch the Easter Bunny on his busy route. In later years once I started losing faith, the honour of egg-hider sometimes fell on my skinny shoulders. But I think what I looked forward to the very most with spring was the flowers. I have always, and probably will always, love, live, breathe for flowers. To be able to make that first wraith and place on my head in a playful attempt at some long forgotten youthful goddess was for me an insurmountable joy.

Summer.

Ah the warmth. The long days, the light almost tangible, certainly tangible when it turns into a solid sunburn on your bare skin. For me as a child, summer started off as a hazy blur of splashing around in the kiddy-pool or the ocean, then wild-strawberries threaded onto grass-straws, then the smell of benzine at gas-stations as we stopped for ice-cream. As soon as I got past the toddler stadium it was about fighting the imaginary enemies that me and my siblings saw in the tall weeds, a fallen tree turned into a fort, we’d hide amongst stacks of fire-wood with nuts and dried fruits that we’d stolen from the kitchen… but better still were summers as I got just a little older. Then I started seeing the magic in all. I could see the little fairies as they darted in the twilight-shadows, the tress whispering in the mild breeze, the special words and spells you could bind on a midsummer-night. Summer-rain was something truly special and fine, something to be enjoyed fully in silence, just accepting the lukewarm downpour. Thunder, oh the thunder and lightning! I would run outside so I could feel the mighty rumbles all the better, my worried parents calling after me. Oh the thunder-storm on a hot summer afternoon, followed by that fresh flowery scent that rises out of the very earth itself when glistening with the blessed summer-rain steams itself onwards into starry night.

Fall.

This season is what made me start writing this blogpost. I’m feeling it rising verily in my blood as we speak. I’ve always been a child of the fall you see 🙂 When I said that the sort of wildness you feel in spring is a childish and sweet one, I meant compared to the one you feel in the fall. Autumn brings about something heavy and dark, and urge to live and breathe while there’s still red in the leaves, before the ground freezes. Fall to me is hunt, gather, search, taste, see… crisp cold apples right of the branch stinging your teeth, that unique rustle of just fallen leaves underfoot, that special bite that the crazed wind brings to your cheeks… How can anyone explain just the way they feel when they see a Rowan ripe with berries in the evening-suns fire-rays? It’s a secret of ancient times, something that was spoken of so long ago we can’t quite understand the mystery now. Fall is my favourite season for that very reason. It’s wild, ripe, strong, fearless yet desperate, warm yet ruthless. It lets us feel what we feel, and if we feel nothing it makes us.

Winter.

Mmmmmm. It instantly makes me think of that special, snuggly, well-earned feeling you get when you’ve been out playing in the snow for hours and get inside to a roaring fire and a cup of hot chocolate. Do you think that is only a cliché and the stuff of stories? Because that was a whole lot of my winters growing up. That and struggling out of the drenched, stuffy winter-clothes. That and getting a face-full of snow. That and getting colds and aches and not being able to go outside. But despite all the hardships of winter, the special sense of calm that it brings us when all of nature falls asleep in a long and slow dream of spring, that special sense makes it all worth it to me. And then there’s Christmas. To some it is just a commercial trick to lure people into spending their money on worthless knacks and stress themselves into heart-attacks. But for me Christmas was stuffing little Santa’s helpers and angels into every available corner of the house, rolling out the Christmas-linens of every flat surface, decorating the ridiculously prickly fern-tree that my dad and older brothers had brought in from the forest nearby and then sitting back to wait for 12am to roll around, when the ham would be done cooking in the oven and we’d get to sneak some hot slices with mustard before bedtime. And when my dad read aloud to us from Susan Cooper’s “Dark is Rising” as we spread the butter thickly on the Welsh Bara Brith and felt the cold wind try to force its way through the floor as we sat wide-eyed on lambskin rugs well into the dark hours… winter just couldn’t get better. And probably never will.

 

 

So which season is your favourite, if you have one? Why do you love or hate the seasons? What’s a really good seasonal memory that you’d like to share?

Overindulgence

Is that a real word? Hmmm. I think so. Overindulgence. Yup, spell-check doesn’t say no. Ok. So that’s what this post is about. Randomly.

 

Addiction for instance. I find the one leads to the other. You have to, at some point or some level, be addicted to something in order to then overindulge in it. Or just be really good at it, and get carried away, and overindulge. It’s like when you catch a whiff of something amazing so you keep sniffing until you get sick from it. Overindulging in a scent. Or get a feeling and just keep feeling it because it’s so good, until you get exhausted. So I don’t think overindulgence is only food and drink and drugs and such, I think it can exist on many planes. Even freedom or a hot bath can be good causes for such behaviour, and can lead to the dangerous effects of overindulgence.

Because whenever I get too much of something good I find that I either get; a hangover, a sore throat, a way bloated and stuffed feeling, pain all over, exhaustion etc. So when they say you can never get too much of a good thing, they’re lying, and don’t listen to them. Whoever they are.

Things I have overindulged in of late;

  • Alcohol (and mixing the drinks too, which is so much worse)
  • Smoking
  • Not eating
  • Love
  • Guilt
  • Sun
  • Thoughts
  • Flowers
  • Lack of sleep
  • Killing time
  • Worrying
  • Reading
  • Blogs

Wait a second blogs isn’t a word? How about blog’s? Blogs’? Bloggs? WTF! I’m doing something that doesn’t exist! That is so awesome! Like levitating or being invisible or something!

Anyways, overindulging can be depriving yourself of things too, (like eating or sleep) because then you are overindulging  in the lack of something. If that makes any sense at all.

Things I would like to be overindulging in right now;

  • Relaxation
  • Alone-time
  • Roller coasters
  • Fireworks
  • Italian food
  • Stars
  • Cleaning
  • Sleep

 

I have this crazy tendency to only be able to exist on one end of the spectrum at the one time. Either I have a lot of something or nothing at all. I like extremes, and I do not enjoy staying in the middle of the road. Though sometimes extremes can be really unhealthy. But I don’t care because we only live once.

I apologize for how weird this post looks and how random and ranty and irate it is. And short, too. Now what do you like to overindulge in/what are you currently overindulging in in your life?

Ranting II

It’s 11:30am yet I want to go right back to bed and never get up again. I am pretty darn hung over, my feet feel very dry and I have a beautiful scar on my elbow from last night. Among many things of late I have;

  1. Been working a lot. A little over 40 hours every week. I’ve been working so much that the other day I was an hour late for work, not because I slept in but because my boss once again changed the schedule without telling me and so I found myself running only to get there and discover that it was dead. Ironically this was the first hot and sunny day in forever, and I don’t have any sunglasses since they were stepped on. Running to work. Yay. To top it all off this little girl turned to the man walking at her side and asked, loudly enough for me to hear as I was frantically trying to reach the stop-light in time to cross; “Why is she running daddy?” I didn’t hear his reply. Oh wait, this happened yesterday, which leads me to…
  2. Losing track of time. I constantly keep forgetting what the date is, what the weekday is, how long ago I did something/anything, things that happened the other day seem months away and things that happened years ago start drifting back up to the surface. This is something I’ve been doing more of late than I used to, possibly because I’ve been sleeping a lot less than I’ve been working. But I didn’t lose track of time when I…
  3. Stood in a Sobeys lineup for about 40 minutes at 11 last night. (For English friend, Sobeys is like Tesco. And then there’s another place here called Dominion which is like Sainsburys. Yes, I have lived in the U.K). Because I’m going to one or possibly two BBQ’s today and so I of course wanted to get some food, which I wouldn’t be able to today because it’s Canada-day so everything will be closed, which is also why the lineups were so huge. The worst part was when I was the next person in line to get served at the check-out (finally! oh joy!) and the cashier put up the “Another check-out is ready to serve you sign” upon which I with a broken spirit turned around and slowly made my way to the back of another, much longer lineup, only to find that the original lineup was indeed going to serve everyone in line and the cashier just failed to inform me of that. Of course no-one thought to go “hey, you girl who was in front of line. you nice. you go back to your place and get home sooner. we nice”. At which point I…
  4. Cried. A little, and in secret, but still, I was pathetically crying in a Sobeys lineup at about 11:15 last night. I have been crying quite a lot of late, I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional about everything, but I would like to blame it on my lack of sleep and my life gradually turning upside down. Sometimes a good cry just clears your system and your head. Which is why I did a bit of self-inflicted crying by watching “P.S I love you” about 2 weeks ago. I didn’t cry as much as I did the first time around but still, it was decent. Also I’m pretty sure I didn’t cry when I fell down and hit my elbow last night. I don’t really remember but I’m pretty pain-resistant so I probably just said something foul and got on with it. With the crying comes other things like…
  5. Figuring things out. In fact, to the point where I made a list. Once again with the wonderful support and consideration – not to mention pen to paper action – of my friend Sarah, magic happened. Here‘s a link to a post where she took a picture of me holding this list. I am hoping to complete as much of it as possible before I leave. Oh and speaking of this, another thing I’ve done a lot of late is…
  6. Hanging with wonderful people. The above mentioned lovely lady, and my friend french Phil, and my room-mate and sausage-friend Molly – both of whom I went to see X-men with, only I went to see it for the second time, but it was just as awesome as the first. And I think you would all like it if you went to see it. Just saying – and just a bunch of awesome people. Friends make life better, always. Well maybe not always always but most of the time 🙂 I’m sure right now friends would even make this splitting headache better! But instead I’m just going to go back to bed. And sleep for like, forever. And then get up and make potato-salad. In that order. Ok, I’ll see you with potato-salad after forever.