Nullsphere

For the first time in ages, I’ve had a good clothing news: I fit in my “skinny” jeans. Admittedly, they used to be my “fat” jeans from when I was thinner but for now, they’re my skinny jeans. This morning, as I was rushing to get ready on time, I slipped into them and closed them with no effort. For low-rises, they stayed on and didn’t slip one bit (except getting into the Volvo, but the Volvo’s really low).

And my “fattest” jeans have been relegated to weekend duty for good!

As I am incapable of owning up to a little truth about myself that almost all my friends know about, here’s my 12-step recovery program to prevent falling into the same old patterns again.

1. I admit that I am powerless over my own heart and it’s unmanageable.
2. I believe that putting 3000+ kilometers between me and my problem can restore my sanity.
3. I am going to exert my will and stop trying to analyse or understand The Situation.
4. I am making a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself. The results aren’t pretty, nor are they encouraging.
5. I admit to the world (thank god for blogs) that I am what’s wrong with my life. I know it, you know it. Move along.
6. I am entirely ready for God (aka a plastic surgeon) to remove all these defects. Except I don’t think anything can be done about my brain.
7. I humbly ask the world to leave my shortcomings alone. And my shortbread too.
8. There is not enough paper in this world for me to make a list of the people I have wronged and make amends. I’m not gonna live that long.
9. I will try to be less of a jerk and/or burden to my friends by whining constantly about my life. I have a reasonable time and been given a lot of breaks over the years.
10. I admit I was wrong to believe in Happily Ever After. It’s a fairy tale. As a scientific, I shouldn’t be so gullible.
11. Sleep will serve as meditation. More sleep = good. Works for cats.
12. Alleluia! I am cured. Now, can I fix your life for you?

Once I reach step 11, I’ll stop because Step 12 sounds moronoic. Agreed?

It’s 11pm and my friends (Jaina and her boyfriend, Giraffe and her boyfriend, setunado) after spending 3 days cleaning the apartment and basement. We managed to fill the Sharan TWICE with shit… Twice.

A quick summary of things we found down there:

• Food from the 80s
• Saranwrap from the 80s
• Old magazines from 85
• Disgusting earth
• Old cobwebs

On Saturday morning, Giraffe and I went to Ikea. 275 euros later, I had two new CD/DVD shelves, a storage unit for the basement, clear plastic boxes for storage, new lamp, new curtains… It was great. Then we went downstairs to clean the basement, which took an age. There was so much shit from when we moved from England, then when we moved back from America. It’s insane what my mother brought back! Old junk that no sane person would have brought back.

We manage to fill up the entire courtyard with stuff and all the neighbours came around to see what the hell was going on. Nosy bastards were probably wondering if I was (finally) moving out. Hah, fat chance. Now it’s gonna be non-stop partying til the wee hours of the morning at mine.

Now, the fridge has taken its rightful place in the kitchen (easy, once you remove the kitchen door before moving fridge), I’ve thrown out enough stuff to last me two or three lifetimes and have a clean, clean, CLEAN kitchen.

Today, the day ended with burgers (homemade, my secret recipe), fries and beers.

So big thanks to the 5 of them, I couldn’t have made it without them.

L. and Giraffe joined me for brunch this morning at Le Fumoir. As Giraffe is leaving for Sweden soon, it was fun because the chef at Fumoir is swedish and all we were having was “local” cuisine. Pictorial advice is here.

That egg Benedict that L had was… like a ray of sunlight on a warm winter morning. We discussed moving, shopping and of course, boys.