Hi everyone! You probably don’t remember me. I have moved to Switzerland and started a new blog for some reason, even though my username is still the same? I often use the internet incorrectly. Anyway the new place is
I intend to write about ponds and workin’ on my night cheese. No Alps. I am in the one city in Switzerland from which you can see zero mountains.
Half an hour left in my house in Sweden, twiddling my thumbs waiting for the taxi to come whisk me away to FURTHER ADVENTURES. It’s been REAL. I think I’m going to shutter Daily Sardines, though it’s been fun. Now to tear about the room collecting chargers and toothbrushes!
Can I make that video not huge and obnoxious? Sorry!
You know, I still have an internal academic calendar, and I laughed SO FREAKING HARD at this song because it was so well-timed and SO PERFECTLY captured exactly how I felt at the beginning of every new school year. “We’re gonna be more fun and be less weird!” and, especially in college, that sad peppy “We’re gonna finally be fine!”
With barely over a week left here, I’m walking around feeling sentimental about the dumbest things, like ugly weird plastic carafe from which Gotlands Nation serves coffee at Saturday fika. It’s getting cold and rainy and I’m eating down the pantry.
Sometimes people are wrong in an evil way, and sometimes they’re just wrong but not evil, but still wrong even if irrelevant, but wrong. But not evil.
You know how I am automatically thrilled whenever I get to sleep somewhere different? This applies even to within the same house. (When I lived in my parents’ house I would sometimes sleep on the couch just to have an ADVENTURE.) My mom is visiting and sleeping in my room, so I’m sleeping in one of the other bedrooms, formerly of one of my landlady’s children and now used by her visiting grandchildren. COOL THINGS I HAVE SEEN:
1) There is a very old, clearly homemade dollhouse in which the rooms have wallpaper matching that of the actual house.
2) So many Agatha Christie books! During your middle school summer of reading Agatha Christie all the time (those of you who had one of those), did you ever come across the two short stories that had the EXACT SAME PLOT involving a guy hiding in a chest at a party and a party guest stabbing him while pretending to change the records, except in one it’s a “Spanish chest” and in the other it’s a “Baghdad chest,” and one’s told in third person featuring Miss Lemon as Poirot’s sidekick and one told in first person by different Poirot sidekick Captain Hastings? Wasn’t that weird??
3) A translated E.B. White novel called “Fantastisk Wilbur.” Wilbur as the fantastic one? Interesting choice, focusing the title on the doofy everyman rather than on the memory of the wry, brilliant, tragically dead friend who saved his life.
4) The shade on the ceiling lamp is wicker or something with chinks in it so it throws a very beautiful pattern of little chinks of light on the walls. MUST REMEMBER for future place where I live.
If I were 15 years old, I would be making a big existential deal out of the finding (described in point 10 here) that members of pretty much all higher animal taxa have the same number of heartbeats in a lifetime. (One and a half billion.) I once made a big existential deal out of the fact that the heart beats in iambs. It is a relief not to have to get into a tizzy about these things anymore, because working through the mysteries of your life slash the universe in a systematic way is so much more satisfying.
Remark by someone at lunch: “Peanut butter? What do you do with that?”
