I've always found the first sentence the most difficult one. Actually, this was my fourth attempt at a first sentence, which, though powered with ungodly amounts of dark rye bread and apple pie (don't you dare judge me for my breakfast choices, it's Sunday, still turned out to be pretty mehmeramehmeh, but I'll roll with it. To be honest, I've honestly absolutely zero ideas, why I'm writing all of this babble right now, since, in the end, it'll still have the deep and philosophical meaning of a diaper, but I guess that sometimes you just need to write. Just. Write. Simple as that (also, has any of you ever noticed how pretty the large Q letter looks in the drafts mode? Just. Q. QQQ. Q. ahhhh).
It's weird to think how much has changed since my last post in February 2011. Back then I was a high school student, about to begin my senior year in the fall and about to make a complete "wut" of myself in June's DELF B.2 French exam. Also, I had a very unhealthy obsession with baked goods and an even unhealthier one with my pants size and, needless to say, these two weren't exactly a match made in heaven. Also, trying to figure out what to do with my life wasn't exactly all sugarplums and fairycups. So, completely logically, I did what every responsible person with the mental capacity of an Easter bunny would do - completely and absolutely ditched writing altogether.
So, here I present to you "whads been boilin dowwwn" (also read under the section: "How To Successfully Humiliate Yourself On The Internet By Pretending To Be An Australian Gangsta Swag Swag"):
1. I graduated from High School July 2012, with pretty good marks, but not so good finals results, which furthermore led to a kick in the buttcheeks by the University of Glasgow, which then furthermore led to me holding the entire country's economy just by buying Kleenex products for about two weeks straight.
2. Accepted a university offer in the south of France, went there, spent a good 100 Euros on probably baguettes and Nutella alone, since, you know, baguettes and Nutella and baguettes and Nutella, and we musnt't forget my third and strongest point, baguettes and Nutella, spent about 2 months there, til I understood that I was kind of just wasting my time there, since the classes kept getting pushed more and more back and one of my core subjects didn't, well...happen at all, which was a bit disappointing, cause I would have actually enjoyed doing, you know, stuufff.
. Oh, also, while we're on the topic "My Fabulous Life In France", got diagnosed with a super enlarged heart, so, yes, my heart is literally wide as the ocean. Fun times.
4. Returned to my blissfully supersoft bed and the autumn of +5 degrees, instead of +30 degrees, so, yeah, Finland definitely knows how to kick you out of the ugh-only-25-degrees-today-where's-my-polar-bear-fur-coat France mode. And I love it here.
There are some more things, quite important as well, might I add, that I have discovered this year besides all this jazz (like, that you should never mix aspirin with ibuprofen. Or try to fry cucumber when bored), but these, I guess, where the most important things. I would really like to say that these were also the things that made me quit writing, but I guess I wouldn't be completely hundred percent if I said that, cause mostly the reason for this kind of thing is us ourselves, not some exterior conditions. Sometimes we get tired, sometimes we get lost, bored, sad, unable to decide whether you should add another tablespoon of paprika to what now looks more like a dead skunk than a stroganoff. These kind of things. The small pieces that kinda kick you off balance. And sometimes these small things add up and kinda crash down on you like a lousy piano its previous owner has decided to get rid of and you are the poor bastard standing beneath his balcony, reading some Danielle Steel novel and choking back tears, because a) you will never experience a love like that; b)why can't men like that exist in real life? c) this chocolate chipmunk donut. ohmygod. this donut. ohmygod. And when you have had a piano crash on your head, writing kinda doesn't seem too tempting anymore.
But, at the same time, it doesn't mean that just because you once had that sad experience with piano and the even more tragic one of having actually picked up a Danielle Steele book, you will wind up in that situation again. So, huzzah for cold autumns, huzzah for academic years, huzzah for is-that-a-Health-Science-program-starting-next-autumn-HERE?, huzzah for good friends, huzzah for apple pies and huzzah for writing. Whatcha been up to?
currant of the day: Lou Doillon - ICU