Just backed up all the files on my laptop. I never thought it would come to this. Honestly, it has lost so many screws over the years I just thought it would fall apart before the hard-drive gave out. The screen is so loose if flops around while I type. But today, just as I was so close to having completed two bachelor degrees with my trusty friend, there sounded an ominous clunking from deep within the bowels of the machine. Death rattle? Only time will tell.
He has served me well, and I will miss him if this is indeed the end.
Trying to make myself feel better about winter by giving it positive labels, like “brisk”, “refreshing” or “doona weather”.
No success so far.
(via theanimalblog)
When I was at the bank today the teller told me that in Russia, hiccups mean that someone, somewhere is thinking about you (she was Russian and she had hiccups, so it was topical). If you guess the person that is thinking of you, the hiccups will magically disappear!
How lovely! That is so incredibly superior to the crappy notion I grew up with, where hiccups are just an excuse for all the people around you to take turns in scaring the living shit out of you.
Russia 1: West 0.
Fairy floss: it’s like whimsy on a stick.
Restful Ruminations
Sometimes I hear people say things, like “I hate sleeping alone” and “the bed is so cold and lonely without [insert significant others name.”
I do not understand these people.
Sleeping in your own bed is fucking awesome. The quilt is all yours. The bedding can be arranged to satisfy your own particular heating preferences. You can kick, and stretch out, and roll around. You can fart. You can snore and drool free of judgment. It is the height of sleeping luxury.
Sleeping with another person, on the other hand, may sound good and romantic but that is as far as it goes. Gav and I were snuggling together once as we drifted off to sleep. I was a little spoon, and he was wrapped all around me in a perpetual hug. It was warm and safe and comfortable. And then he had one of those falling dreams and his entire body jumped a foot off the bed, like a started cat. It was not a pleasant experience.
And I know that it isn’t just me because other people have shared their own horror stories. Some people punch and kick their poor, battered partners all night. Others have weird conversations with befuddled bed-mates. My own sister once rolled over to tenderly cradle her beloved husbands face for a few seconds before viciously ramming her finger up his nose.
In conclusion: sleeping with others is uncomfortable, scary, and damaging to one’s health and sense of personal safety. I don’t care what the movies tell me. Sleeping alone is not the sign of a deteriorating relationship - its the sign of a flourishing and blissfully peaceful one!
This turtle is cooler than you.
(Source: whoa-nature, via theanimalblog)
(Source: fuckyeahfeminists, via kbutno)
(Source: zimages, via ofpaperandponies)
