On hills and haircuts

Oh my god, sometimes Hemingway just cracks me up so bad. He sends me a group shot of him and some friends, and I notice that he's had a haircut, so I point it out. "What! How did you know?! I wanted it to be a surprise!" He's a cute little panda, but sometimes I'm just left going "Uhm... what?"

It's nice to be back in my own apartment with my own roomies. Pony immediately went for snuggle mode, which was great, seeing as I've been without it for almost a week now. Being with my parents is nice, and being in the vicinity of a well-filled fridge that I can snack from at any time is also pretty damn sweet, but nothing really beats my space. It's going to be nice to be able to take the time I need to get some work applications sorted in the morning, as well as finally do that first TEFL-assignment. It feels amazing to know that it's starting now. All I need to do is to just do it. It's a pretty neat feeling, like being at the top of a hill and just waiting to go running down it at the speed of sound. Whoosh.

"Bitches don't know about my jetpack."

I was on my way to my brother-in-law's birthday party today when I was brutally attacked by a bus. Well, not really, but when I got on the bus, I wasn't paying attention and ended up smacking my nose into one of the handle bars really hard, and now my nose is a bit swollen, kinda red and hurts like fuck. You know those times you hurt yourself, when you know that if you were like ten and below, it would be completely alright for you to just wail-cry because it hurts so bad, but you have to compose yourself because you're an adult? Man, they suck. I can't stop touching it either.

"Ow!" *poke poke* "Ow!" *poke poke* "Ow!"