(This was written while on my way to and through the US. I just thought I would wait to post it until today for obvious reasons)
It seems I do a great deal of writing on planes or in airports. There is something about waiting for flights or being thousands of feet in the air that brings out a particularly introspective side to me. When this is compounded with the coming of the holidays, my urge to spew my inner thoughts peaks. After all there is something psychologically purging about blogging.
It’s been an interesting ride this year (putting it mildly), and I’ve learned some things along the way.
* If you rush into a relationship quickly and intensely, chances are pretty good that it will burn out just as quickly. If you are jumping in blindly and hear a little voice telling you that this time is different than the other time when you made a similar mistake, stop and take a step back. More than likely the voice in your head is not the voice of reason but the insane ramblings of lust.
* British Cling Film sucks. American Saran Wrap is better.
* There is no explaining a suicide, particularly a murder-suicide. And, you cannot beat yourself up thinking “If I had only...” thoughts. There is nothing that could have been done. You are not responsible.
* People usually don’t change all that much. You can give them as many chances as you like, but at the end of the day they will still be shit if they were shit before. They just might be shit differently or perhaps slightly less. This doesn’t mean you can’t accept them and love them for who they are, however. Just don’t be surprised or moan about it when they’re crap.
* Pay attention to red flags. They are easily misinterpreted especially if you are wearing rose coloured glasses.
* To ‘blow someone off’ means something completely different in the UK than it does in the US. If you aren’t going to meet up with someone in the UK, you ‘blow them out’ not off.
* To forgive someone for what they have done is divine. To forget about what they did which caused you to have to forgive them in the first place is stupid. Remember, people usually don’t change that much.
* Clinging to your ex's because you are comfortable with them is just plain lazy and perhaps a bit of a cowardly thing to do.
Some of these were lessons I had learnt in the past, but I obviously needed a review this year. It wasn’t the best of years, but it wasn’t the worst either. I gladly welcome in 2008.
Monday 31 December 2007
Sunday 30 December 2007
Nothing and something
The other night I went to the Tractor Tavern in Seattle with some friends to see a band I was once a fan of many years ago. The stalls of the bathroom were covered with graffiti, mostly about men and their character or the size of their privates. However, there was one note that caught my attention and made think that perhaps it was time to change the signature on my email.
"Nothing is better than just something."
So true.
On a slightly unrelated note I've been watching American Football a bit since I've been back. I'm not really an American Football fan, but I have my teams. I bleed green and white for Michigan State University. It's difficult being a Spartan. They always build you up, give you hope and then smash you to the ground while breaking your heart, much like last Friday's bowl game. My friend, Scott, described it perfectly. He said something to the effect of, "It's like that girl that always screws you over, but you really like her and want her to call. Then, you're really happy when she does call, and you hope things will work out differently this time. But, she always screws you over again."
I laughed and wondered if being true to my alma mater has some correlation to my love life.
My thoughts for the day.
"Nothing is better than just something."
So true.
On a slightly unrelated note I've been watching American Football a bit since I've been back. I'm not really an American Football fan, but I have my teams. I bleed green and white for Michigan State University. It's difficult being a Spartan. They always build you up, give you hope and then smash you to the ground while breaking your heart, much like last Friday's bowl game. My friend, Scott, described it perfectly. He said something to the effect of, "It's like that girl that always screws you over, but you really like her and want her to call. Then, you're really happy when she does call, and you hope things will work out differently this time. But, she always screws you over again."
I laughed and wondered if being true to my alma mater has some correlation to my love life.
My thoughts for the day.
Saturday 29 December 2007
My Luck With Cars Pt. 1
I don’t own a car, and that’s a good thing. If I were the princess in some fairytale where an evil witch were to put a spell upon me, my curse would not be to fall in an endless sleep or to be locked in a tower guarded by some dragon. No, instead my curse would be an eternity of bad luck surrounding automobiles.
The curse took hold when I was 11 and in the Sixth Grade. It was my first year of East Grand Rapids Middle School, and I had to walk a mile to school (uphill both ways in the snow). The year previous I had been a safety captain at my elementary school. This meant that I did the schedule for and checked on all the other Fifth Grade safeties (crossing guards). It was quite the prestigious position for a 10 year-old. I had to be nominated by my teacher and demonstrate that I had a complete comprehension of traffic safety rules, a comprehension that evaporated the second I started Middle School.
I would go meet my friend Christina, who lived across busy Breton Road, and we would walk to school together. Christina would wait by her front window for me and once she saw me about to cross Breton, she would go get a banana for us to split on our way to school. Then, I would dash out into the street knowing that I had timed sprint perfectly across so that the approaching car would just miss me. Now, keep in mind that I liked to live dangerously at the age of 11, which may explain my stupidity when it came to crossing Breton Road. I did things like climb trees to the very top where the branches were the thinnest and get pulled by a bicycle on my skateboard or on my roller skates letting go just in time to careen down the steep hill of Pinecrest at about 20 miles an hour. My knees still bear the scars from injuries of these childhood exploits and my foot still bears the scar of my first run-in with a car.
I knew my timing was perfect as bolted into the street that cold November morning; however, what I didn’t count on was the car turning right onto Breton Road. Suddenly I was knocked to the ground. The wheel of the vehicle stopped just at my foot, and my sneaker came off and to this day I can see it flipping down the street in slow motion. I remember thinking that I was lucky the car hadn’t run over my foot. Frankly, I was lucky that aside from a cut on my foot I wasn’t hurt at all. Instantly the driver and the passengers of the car surrounded my while I started to cry and blubber apologies. The people helped me into their car, and one of them ran to a house to call an ambulance. It was at this point that Christina left her house to meet me. Having not seen me get hit by the car, she was convinced that I was getting kidnapped and began screaming for her mother.
Eventually all misunderstandings were sorted and the ambulance arrived. I was thoroughly checked for signs of concussion or internal bleeding, and then I was granted the wish of almost every child under the age of 12. I got to ride to school in an ambulance, going top speed, lights going and sirens blaring. Despite the speed, I knew I was still going to miss the first bell, but I had a helluva good excuse. When we arrived at school, I looked up and saw the faces of my entire homeroom plastered to the window staring down at me. I smiled and waved.
The curse went into remission for six years and didn’t show its ugly head again until I had my driver’s license. More about the continuation of this curse later.
The curse took hold when I was 11 and in the Sixth Grade. It was my first year of East Grand Rapids Middle School, and I had to walk a mile to school (uphill both ways in the snow). The year previous I had been a safety captain at my elementary school. This meant that I did the schedule for and checked on all the other Fifth Grade safeties (crossing guards). It was quite the prestigious position for a 10 year-old. I had to be nominated by my teacher and demonstrate that I had a complete comprehension of traffic safety rules, a comprehension that evaporated the second I started Middle School.
I would go meet my friend Christina, who lived across busy Breton Road, and we would walk to school together. Christina would wait by her front window for me and once she saw me about to cross Breton, she would go get a banana for us to split on our way to school. Then, I would dash out into the street knowing that I had timed sprint perfectly across so that the approaching car would just miss me. Now, keep in mind that I liked to live dangerously at the age of 11, which may explain my stupidity when it came to crossing Breton Road. I did things like climb trees to the very top where the branches were the thinnest and get pulled by a bicycle on my skateboard or on my roller skates letting go just in time to careen down the steep hill of Pinecrest at about 20 miles an hour. My knees still bear the scars from injuries of these childhood exploits and my foot still bears the scar of my first run-in with a car.
I knew my timing was perfect as bolted into the street that cold November morning; however, what I didn’t count on was the car turning right onto Breton Road. Suddenly I was knocked to the ground. The wheel of the vehicle stopped just at my foot, and my sneaker came off and to this day I can see it flipping down the street in slow motion. I remember thinking that I was lucky the car hadn’t run over my foot. Frankly, I was lucky that aside from a cut on my foot I wasn’t hurt at all. Instantly the driver and the passengers of the car surrounded my while I started to cry and blubber apologies. The people helped me into their car, and one of them ran to a house to call an ambulance. It was at this point that Christina left her house to meet me. Having not seen me get hit by the car, she was convinced that I was getting kidnapped and began screaming for her mother.
Eventually all misunderstandings were sorted and the ambulance arrived. I was thoroughly checked for signs of concussion or internal bleeding, and then I was granted the wish of almost every child under the age of 12. I got to ride to school in an ambulance, going top speed, lights going and sirens blaring. Despite the speed, I knew I was still going to miss the first bell, but I had a helluva good excuse. When we arrived at school, I looked up and saw the faces of my entire homeroom plastered to the window staring down at me. I smiled and waved.
The curse went into remission for six years and didn’t show its ugly head again until I had my driver’s license. More about the continuation of this curse later.
Friday 28 December 2007
Mommy's Going To War
I’m sitting in the Tucson Airport and have just witnessed a family say good-bye to their Iraq bound mother. The family consists of a boy about 10, a little girl about 6 and their father, all of them stocky and all of them blonde. Before the mother left, they all gathered in a huddle and said a prayer. Then, she boarded the plane and the kids and the husband are now standing by the window staring at her plane. The father keeps assuring them that she will be ok. The little girl keeps asking questions about the plane, when will it leave, what’s that guy doing, why can’t she see her mother on it, etc. The boy stands silently with an intensely painful look on his face as he fixates his stare on the aircraft, which holds his mother. Every now and again a tear will roll down his ruddy cheek. Meanwhile, CNN is on the television screen behind them broadcasting the idiot who is responsible for this God forsaken war. No one in the airport can hear what he is saying because the television is muted, but we can all see his monkey-like face that always appears to wear a smug smirk. God, I despise that man, and at this moment that feeling of hatred has magnified so much that I’m seeing red.
And now the plane has taken off, and the family is turning to leave. The little girl walks up to a stranger, shows her a brightly coloured stuffed caterpillar and proudly announces, “My mommy bought this for me, but she had to go away.”
I was blogging about the things I’ve learnt this year, but all of that seems somewhat trivial now.
The Tucson airport doesn’t have free WiFi. As soon as I am connected to the internet, I will post this.
And now the plane has taken off, and the family is turning to leave. The little girl walks up to a stranger, shows her a brightly coloured stuffed caterpillar and proudly announces, “My mommy bought this for me, but she had to go away.”
I was blogging about the things I’ve learnt this year, but all of that seems somewhat trivial now.
The Tucson airport doesn’t have free WiFi. As soon as I am connected to the internet, I will post this.
Thursday 20 December 2007
Mother Knows Best
Ahhhh procrastination. I'm meant to leave my flat bright and early to make my flight to the US. I've not packed, my house is a sty, and I'm about to blog...
This week I made good on my threat to my old childhood friend, Scott, and posted prom pics from my Senior Prom. While I was looking for these pictures, I came across a rather humorous poem my mother had written for me warning against being too mischievous while she, my father and younger brother had gone off on holiday (I don't remember to where) for about 5 days. This was when I was 17. I had a summer job, so I had to stay behind. I've obviously thought it worthy of keeping these last 20 years.
To Heather
We've gone and left you on your own.
The car, the house, and you alone.
The prospect gives us quite a chill.
We hope our worries come to nill.
We know that while we're all away,
The tendency will be to play.
It's surely true, so don't deny it.
But if it's wrong, please don't you try it.
If friends should drink, don't let them drive.
They'll be more fun when they're alive!
We know you're cautious and you're smart,
But if anything happens to you all three
of us will have a broken heart!
(This doesn't fit, but it's true)
Now Kirsten has agreed to stay,
So we'll feel better while away.
She's a real friend, I think you know it.
Go ahead and have fun, but just don't "blow" it!!
-Mom
PS Remember that the furniture is new.
The first spill should be us not you.
So, I had an amazing party. On the back of this poem is a party game my boyfriend (whoever was the flavour of the month-I don't even remember his name) and his friends made up. They gave people nicknames and made a key for O.O.C. (out of control) behaviour. The daughter of one of my teachers, who they nicknamed 'Marker Monster', won hands down when she vomited on my parents' bedroom.
All was cleaned up by the time my parents and brother arrived home. However, my father knew we had a party. Kirsten and I had disposed of the garbage by taking it to a dumpster, but we did it before the garbage pick up day. Thus, my dad knew we were hiding something. I didn't get in trouble though, not that time.
Back to packing and cleaning.
This week I made good on my threat to my old childhood friend, Scott, and posted prom pics from my Senior Prom. While I was looking for these pictures, I came across a rather humorous poem my mother had written for me warning against being too mischievous while she, my father and younger brother had gone off on holiday (I don't remember to where) for about 5 days. This was when I was 17. I had a summer job, so I had to stay behind. I've obviously thought it worthy of keeping these last 20 years.
To Heather
We've gone and left you on your own.
The car, the house, and you alone.
The prospect gives us quite a chill.
We hope our worries come to nill.
We know that while we're all away,
The tendency will be to play.
It's surely true, so don't deny it.
But if it's wrong, please don't you try it.
If friends should drink, don't let them drive.
They'll be more fun when they're alive!
We know you're cautious and you're smart,
But if anything happens to you all three
of us will have a broken heart!
(This doesn't fit, but it's true)
Now Kirsten has agreed to stay,
So we'll feel better while away.
She's a real friend, I think you know it.
Go ahead and have fun, but just don't "blow" it!!
-Mom
PS Remember that the furniture is new.
The first spill should be us not you.
So, I had an amazing party. On the back of this poem is a party game my boyfriend (whoever was the flavour of the month-I don't even remember his name) and his friends made up. They gave people nicknames and made a key for O.O.C. (out of control) behaviour. The daughter of one of my teachers, who they nicknamed 'Marker Monster', won hands down when she vomited on my parents' bedroom.
All was cleaned up by the time my parents and brother arrived home. However, my father knew we had a party. Kirsten and I had disposed of the garbage by taking it to a dumpster, but we did it before the garbage pick up day. Thus, my dad knew we were hiding something. I didn't get in trouble though, not that time.
Back to packing and cleaning.
Monday 17 December 2007
Be Still My Frigid Heart
Damn it's cold. I'm cold outside, and I'm cold on the inside too.
I've got a case of the Holiday Blues for many reasons which I am not really able to divulge completely here. I did talk a bit about it with a few friends this weekend. I know what I need to do for me. But it's not going to be easy and I'm not very happy about it. On top of that I'm sick and broke. I haven't slept well for 5 days running now-well that's not exactly true. I slept almost all day on Friday.
On the brighter side of things, the Nine Yards Christmas Party was a blast this weekend as it is every year thanks to Simon and Marianne. Plus, Rob brought the laser from the Led Zeppelin concert, which made this year's party even more spectacular. I'm going out to celebrate Julia's birthday tonight (despite only sleeping for 3 hours last night) and tomorrow is a Christmas Dinner at the Grove.
So, I'll keep wearing the holiday blue like some kind of scarf to keep me warm and enjoy the company of friends.
And in four days I'll be in sunny Tucson and then Seattle. That will be lovely.
I need to quit being a moping Molly-sheesh. There are people out there with real problems after all.
I love how blogging always makes me feel better.
I've got a case of the Holiday Blues for many reasons which I am not really able to divulge completely here. I did talk a bit about it with a few friends this weekend. I know what I need to do for me. But it's not going to be easy and I'm not very happy about it. On top of that I'm sick and broke. I haven't slept well for 5 days running now-well that's not exactly true. I slept almost all day on Friday.
On the brighter side of things, the Nine Yards Christmas Party was a blast this weekend as it is every year thanks to Simon and Marianne. Plus, Rob brought the laser from the Led Zeppelin concert, which made this year's party even more spectacular. I'm going out to celebrate Julia's birthday tonight (despite only sleeping for 3 hours last night) and tomorrow is a Christmas Dinner at the Grove.
So, I'll keep wearing the holiday blue like some kind of scarf to keep me warm and enjoy the company of friends.
And in four days I'll be in sunny Tucson and then Seattle. That will be lovely.
I need to quit being a moping Molly-sheesh. There are people out there with real problems after all.
I love how blogging always makes me feel better.
Thursday 13 December 2007
Sick Thoughts
Ahh, but my title has probably led you astray. I'm not thinking 'sick thoughts' as such, although I do admittedly have quite sick thoughts from time to time, but I am just sat at home very sick and thinking.
Thinking too much is a problem I have.
And so I woke this morning wondering why I always go back to ex's or why do I keep them in my life. I have now come up with an answer...comfort.
I like to be comfortable. Comfort is good. There is admittedly a charge when a new relationship begins...butterflies, silly smiles, and what not, and all of that is truly enjoyable. But, what makes me the happiest is the settling in and being comfortable, simply knowing what to expect, establishing routines, etc.
That being said, I don't like it to be all comfort and laziness all the time. There has to be spontaneity to add spice to the comfort or the comfort becomes dull. However, all in all I like to know what to expect. Even if what is expected is that the person will be a shit.
It's ironic that I would allow comfort to rule over me like this. I've always thought of myself as an adventurous type, and adventurous types generally go beyond their comfort level. I, on the other had, always date the same type of guy (musician or artist type) and then when it ends I cling to the comfort that relationship brought me. Thus, I either end up getting back with my ex in some way only to have it fail again or I become close friends with them.
It's time to step out of my comfort zone.
Thinking too much is a problem I have.
And so I woke this morning wondering why I always go back to ex's or why do I keep them in my life. I have now come up with an answer...comfort.
I like to be comfortable. Comfort is good. There is admittedly a charge when a new relationship begins...butterflies, silly smiles, and what not, and all of that is truly enjoyable. But, what makes me the happiest is the settling in and being comfortable, simply knowing what to expect, establishing routines, etc.
That being said, I don't like it to be all comfort and laziness all the time. There has to be spontaneity to add spice to the comfort or the comfort becomes dull. However, all in all I like to know what to expect. Even if what is expected is that the person will be a shit.
It's ironic that I would allow comfort to rule over me like this. I've always thought of myself as an adventurous type, and adventurous types generally go beyond their comfort level. I, on the other had, always date the same type of guy (musician or artist type) and then when it ends I cling to the comfort that relationship brought me. Thus, I either end up getting back with my ex in some way only to have it fail again or I become close friends with them.
It's time to step out of my comfort zone.
Friday 7 December 2007
Weary Water
I'm home now and this song is on. It completely is my mood. In fact I'd say that if my life were a movie or some bad sitcom it would be my theme song.
Now playing: Ani DiFranco - Swing
Ani fits any situation.
Now playing: Ani DiFranco - Swing
Ani fits any situation.
Too Tired and A Bit Bored
Week's over and I'm still around. The monthly horoscope appeared after all, so all Tauri are safe.
This week zipped by quite quickly. It started out by me finding out that someone who I thought had acted beyond reproach in a reproachful situation was a bit of a snake himself. It's always disappointing to discover someone you used to think highly of is not as fabulous as you thought. I spent Monday trying to push that from my mind. Tuesday I was meant to go out with some friends but that was canceled and so I stayed at home. Wednesday I went out with some folk I haven't seen in ages and some I see daily. Far too much was eaten, but I didn't care. Tis the season and all that. Last night I rang a friend I was concerned about and did my dishes. In addition I also spent the eve texting things I shouldn't to someone I shouldn't. So much for my resolve.
Today I'm at work-well no it's after work, and I'm taking the 5:30 shuttle, which goes all the way into Surbiton, to avoid the train fare. I've been too damn lazy this week to ride my bike, and the weather has been absolute shite. I have things I could do, sure, but I'm spent and frankly a bit bored.
Once when I was young, maybe about five or six, I was complaining about being bored and my mother said, 'Only boring people get bored.' I did my damndest from then on to never be bored again. But here I am. My life is full with work, interesting friends, activities I like, and things that need doing. In fact my life is so full that I haven't had more than five hours of sleep. For the most part I'm happy, but lately a bit of a cantankerous attitude has taken hold. I have so many friends who are dealing with so much crap, some have brought it upon themselves and have also fucked up things for other people, some are stuck in shitty situations they cannot control, and some are just sad for no real reason than that they just are.
Lately, that last category has been where I'm starting to fit. I have always prided myself on being an upbeat person. I laugh a lot and too loudly at life, but lately all things I used to find amusing I could care less about. In fact things just seem downright dull. Oh no, God forbid, have I become dull? This blog seems to have become boring as well. And, I'm tired. Really really tired.
Everything just seems to be the same. It'd be nice to have something different and good happen. Not to say that the things that are happening in my life aren't good, but I don't want to wish for something different and then have it be bad.
But at the end of the day, the person who lives your life is you. You make your own choices and end up with the consequences of those choices. How you react to what life gives you determines your happiness. No one can make you happy. Only you can make you happy.
I'm bored, so I must have become boring somewhere along the way. But like I said before, I have interesting friends. I'm about to meet a bunch of them now for a drink and I will be well entertained I'm certain.
And maybe the sun will shine again on my attitude soon. Thanks for reading my bit of moaning.
Did anyone notice the triple alliteration in my blog title? That's my mind working to not be bored.
This week zipped by quite quickly. It started out by me finding out that someone who I thought had acted beyond reproach in a reproachful situation was a bit of a snake himself. It's always disappointing to discover someone you used to think highly of is not as fabulous as you thought. I spent Monday trying to push that from my mind. Tuesday I was meant to go out with some friends but that was canceled and so I stayed at home. Wednesday I went out with some folk I haven't seen in ages and some I see daily. Far too much was eaten, but I didn't care. Tis the season and all that. Last night I rang a friend I was concerned about and did my dishes. In addition I also spent the eve texting things I shouldn't to someone I shouldn't. So much for my resolve.
Today I'm at work-well no it's after work, and I'm taking the 5:30 shuttle, which goes all the way into Surbiton, to avoid the train fare. I've been too damn lazy this week to ride my bike, and the weather has been absolute shite. I have things I could do, sure, but I'm spent and frankly a bit bored.
Once when I was young, maybe about five or six, I was complaining about being bored and my mother said, 'Only boring people get bored.' I did my damndest from then on to never be bored again. But here I am. My life is full with work, interesting friends, activities I like, and things that need doing. In fact my life is so full that I haven't had more than five hours of sleep. For the most part I'm happy, but lately a bit of a cantankerous attitude has taken hold. I have so many friends who are dealing with so much crap, some have brought it upon themselves and have also fucked up things for other people, some are stuck in shitty situations they cannot control, and some are just sad for no real reason than that they just are.
Lately, that last category has been where I'm starting to fit. I have always prided myself on being an upbeat person. I laugh a lot and too loudly at life, but lately all things I used to find amusing I could care less about. In fact things just seem downright dull. Oh no, God forbid, have I become dull? This blog seems to have become boring as well. And, I'm tired. Really really tired.
Everything just seems to be the same. It'd be nice to have something different and good happen. Not to say that the things that are happening in my life aren't good, but I don't want to wish for something different and then have it be bad.
But at the end of the day, the person who lives your life is you. You make your own choices and end up with the consequences of those choices. How you react to what life gives you determines your happiness. No one can make you happy. Only you can make you happy.
I'm bored, so I must have become boring somewhere along the way. But like I said before, I have interesting friends. I'm about to meet a bunch of them now for a drink and I will be well entertained I'm certain.
And maybe the sun will shine again on my attitude soon. Thanks for reading my bit of moaning.
Did anyone notice the triple alliteration in my blog title? That's my mind working to not be bored.
Monday 3 December 2007
Worrisome
I just checked my horoscope on Yahoo. I have one for today, one for tomorrow, and one for this whole week. However when I try to see the month view (it is a new month after all), there is nothing.
Are the stars trying to tell me I only have a week to live? Hmmmmmmmm....
Are the stars trying to tell me I only have a week to live? Hmmmmmmmm....
I'm worthless
I have a fancy new laptop from work so I can work at home and guess what...
I brought 5 hours worth of work home with me this weekend.
I did 30 minutes of it and have spent the rest of the time chatting, emailing, and doing stuff to people on facebook.
I'll stop procrastinating tomorrow.
I brought 5 hours worth of work home with me this weekend.
I did 30 minutes of it and have spent the rest of the time chatting, emailing, and doing stuff to people on facebook.
I'll stop procrastinating tomorrow.
Sunday 2 December 2007
Weekend in Review
In the course of this weekend I...
*got my consolation rejection jacket for the London Marathon. :-(
*went to an interesting Burlesque Salon Night called 'Strip Lite' in East London. I'm thinking of writing a review of it for Rock-n-Roll 2.0. I will let the world know as always if it's posted.
*finally ended things with my 'Big'. I'm hoping our communication will smoothly transition to friendship and remain as such.
*cut about 10 inches off my hair. I really like it.
*went to the German Christmas market in Kingston and drank 2 glasses of glühwein. It made me feel very warm and fuzzy inside.
*went to a party at a friend of Nana's. It was quite fun, and I met some lovely people.
*had a long chat with my brother, who despite his recent stroke of very bad luck is doing quite well.
*caught up with a few Seattle friends on-line and on the phone.
And now today is Sunday. I have a lot of work to do. So, I'm putting it off to catalogue my weekend's activities for your entertainment (or boredom). I should really get going on my dishes and marking.
*got my consolation rejection jacket for the London Marathon. :-(
*went to an interesting Burlesque Salon Night called 'Strip Lite' in East London. I'm thinking of writing a review of it for Rock-n-Roll 2.0. I will let the world know as always if it's posted.
*finally ended things with my 'Big'. I'm hoping our communication will smoothly transition to friendship and remain as such.
*cut about 10 inches off my hair. I really like it.
*went to the German Christmas market in Kingston and drank 2 glasses of glühwein. It made me feel very warm and fuzzy inside.
*went to a party at a friend of Nana's. It was quite fun, and I met some lovely people.
*had a long chat with my brother, who despite his recent stroke of very bad luck is doing quite well.
*caught up with a few Seattle friends on-line and on the phone.
And now today is Sunday. I have a lot of work to do. So, I'm putting it off to catalogue my weekend's activities for your entertainment (or boredom). I should really get going on my dishes and marking.
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