A Rude Interruption

So I'm getting on with some maths revision, just starting a new question.

*slap-swoosh*

A bright yellow broom seems to be sweeping water around my window. I was a little surprised. So I fell off my chair. Apparently that's what window cleaners do these days.

Study Leave

Seems to have been spent making plans and breaking them, eating and sleeping off the energy, watching TV and having an injection. I am genuinely concerned about the level of revision which I've been completing. Still, I'll pull through, I always do in the end.

And about this in HPV injection. Whose fuck-off idea was it to put it during my only week of study and very close to my exams (the other 2 have made me sleepy and feverish)? More to the point, it doesn't hurt if you relax when the woman the needle says "relax." If you don't like needles, maybe you should think she might have some power over you. Quit whining.

Cutting Hair is Tricky

Today I attempted to create a mohawk on my friend James. It did not end up with anything resembling a mohawk. it was good fun trying but in the end he just got a very basic number 8. Hair is very tricky. I believe I'm very lucky that it didn't go very wrong.

I'm Home

Quite a trip home if I'm honest.

I travelled from my dad's parents, to my mum's mum at midday and when I arrived, we checked the flights, watched the news and ate *rice porridge.* As it seemed EasyJet was still flying we dropped her dogs off at a friends and drove to the airport. We arrived at the airport around 7. She'd brought grapes and 10 of these amazing bars that I love and 2 bags of these chewy sweets and it was just SO good. I'm really glad I saw her again before I left because after I'd left the first time, I really didn't feel that I'd had enough time with her. We chatted until 10 minutes before I needed to go to my gate. I went through passport control and over to see if they'd given me a gate to go to yet.

I swore, dropped my bag to the floor and used it as a pillow. Lying on the airport floor I texted home that the flight was an hour delayed. I was most definitely not impressed. After a short while I dragged myself off the floor and walked down past the streets of closed shops that is Copenhagen Airport at night. I found some seats and scanned the people. At this point in time it was more or less only easy jet flights that hadn't been cancelled, and Standsted was the last flight of the night so I was basically looking at my fellow passengers. I spotted a cute blond guy and I dragged my bag over (seriously, it was so heavy that it's bruised my shoulder and I never bruise - stupid extra charge for non hand luggage bags) and sat down next to him. I asked where he was off to and he further emphasised my point and said he was going to Stansted. It dawned on me pretty quickly that he was a Dane and I switched languages.

So Dane and I got chatting, he's taking a year to study economics in the UK and he'd been over to visit family because of Easter. Seeing as we had some time to kill, we just carried on talking and when we finally got on the plane, I sat next to him. He was a really nice guy and he looked good. He had dark-blond hair, great biceps and extremely tempting lips. As the flight progressed I let my fingers trail over his thigh and I ensured that he was cool with that. By asking. Trademark Bluntness and all that. We talked about family, school, my sexual habits and preferences (they always crop up, is it something I say?) and his course, my ability to do stupid things without alcohol and the ridiculously high alcohol consumption of English friends (you know who you are) and just general stuff. We also mocked the small child kicking my seat (read: I mocked the small child kicking my seat).

We were starting to land and I looked at him and said, "So if I was to do something stupid or inappropriate, it wouldn't really matter because I'll probably never see you again, right?"
He said that it depends what I was planning on doing. I lent over and kissed him. It was good. He was a good kisser. When we stopped, he looked at me with a slanted smile and said, "you're halfway to crazy."
"Well, someone has to and besides, it's much more fun."

We carried on chatting, etc. until we landed and he went to get his luggage and I went out to find my mother. We chatted the whole way home and we missed the turning off the motorway so we weren't back until 3. At that point, I got some food and went to bed.

Today was spent enjoying chocolate bars, tidying my room, catching up on sleep and doing a little revision.

I'm going home

Either I'm catching my plane tomorrow night or I'm leaving for France as soon as they cancel it.

I hate, hate, HATE sudden plans.

Clothes and Plans

Over the past few days I've inherited quite a lot of clothes. My cousin is about the same size as me and only really wears horsy clothes these days, cleared out her wardrobe and I managed to stuff another weeks worth of clothes into my suitcase. I'm personally both impressed and pleased. I love hand-me-downs.

Unfortunately there is a price. Like I said, she wears horsy clothes. That would be because she rides. I have to go see the horse. I am afraid of horses. Am not looking forward to it. Not one bit.

As far as getting home is concerned I have tickets for Wednesday and should that fail, I have tickets for Thursday too - the theory being that if we wait until Wednesday when they cancel my flight, there will be no available tickets for quite a few days afterwards. Should I still be stranded Friday morning, my mother has decided that driving to France and a grandparent driving me to France and me switching cars, would no longer be too extreme. So that's what'll happen. It better be one comfy car. My grandpa has this one, but I feel it could get a little chilly.

Now, if I'm completely honest, I'm getting pretty sick of this volcano. I genuinely do believe a giant cork would solve the problem. Just whack it in and be done with it. That way, we can all get home (I know I'm not the only stranded creature) and Iceland can go back to their itchy jumpers and horses, that aren't even normal size.

(Just to clarify, this last paragraph is blatant plagiarism of an article I read. I'm ok with that.)

Much Less Impressed

So I'm here until at least Wednesday. I am not best pleased. If they should cancel the flight again, my mother has decided to drive from England, through France and into Germany where I will have been escorted by a relative of some sort. She really wants me home.

In the meantime I'm contacting teachers and local INK schools to try and find equiptment that I can borrow to revise with - textbooks, calculators, etc. I may also ferry myself over to Sweden for a day trip, revise my err... cultural interaction.

Bloody vulcano.

I am not impressed

In fact, I'm pretty stressed. I have very little revision material with me at this moment in time and I'm currently stuck in Denmark. I'm meant to be flying back tomorrow night and it's looking more than a little unlikely.

Bloody volcano.

Also this keyboard is driving me crazy because in place my much used ? is a very stupidly placed _. I don't know why there is any need for an underscore right there, but apparantly there is. @ is even worse.



(Disclaimer: I have actually had a really lovely time up until this point and have eaten so much danish food and cake that I'm at breaking point - also went to see art. )

A Few Days in Brief

(I lie, it's not that brief)

I was in fact correct in assuming it would be a rush job. I started packing just after 3am sunday morning. Up until that point I was distracted and lazy. I went to bed just before 5 and got all of two hours of golden sleep before getting up again to get ready to leave. I did leave and we drove all the way to the airport before I realised I'd forgotten my passport.

Only joking. I got through security without any real hitches. I did of course set off the metal detectors and get felt up by the security guard. She was very thorough. That put me in just the right mindset for airport flirting. I have this habit of ditching my actual travel company and making new friends.

I scanned the people in Starbucks and then the waiting area. I walked towards a tall, tan guy with dark hair. I sit down next to him. I ask if he's on his way home or going on holiday. He looks at me blankly. I repeat. He looks at me intently and then says "sorry, no English." I smile at him and get up.

I guess that is the risk of airport flirting. I have another go. I spot a girl sitting alone, reading with henna red hair in a messy mohawk and glasses. I sit down and ask her. She tells me in a thick Italian accent that she's going home after a few days in London with a friend. Don't give me too much credit, I didn't find out that it was an Italian accent until she told me she was from Italy. Her flight would be leaving 10 minutes after mine, so we both had a few hours to kill. We chatted for two hours. I also sorted some currency and we both got a drink. We're keeping in touch by facebook. Apparantly that's the only way to do anything. I bloody hate facebook, cannot work it at all.

She was so stunning and she's already decided that I must come and visit and we'll go to Milan. Apparantly I'll love it there. We hugged goodbye and I made my way over towards the tram that takes me to my gate. As I was waiting, I spotted a young, blond guy who was fiddling with some headphones. I uttered the eternal airport chat-up line:
"coming or going?"
"just going back home." His words ran thick with something I knew. Instinctively I switched to Danish. I was right. We chattered away in Danish and there were some flirtation going on. It was more instinctive than I'm-trying-to-get-you-into-the-cabin-toilet, but it was there. We were on the same flight and for the very small amount of time on the plane where I was awake, we chatted.

The flight did coincide very well with napping, so we weren't even off the ground before I was asleep. I was awake for the safety briefing. There was a very camp guy doing it right next to me and when he pointed to the emergency exits, he flicked his wrists in such a camp way I actually laughed out loud. He didn't look best pleased.

I got off the plane and went straight to arrivals because I pack light and had everything I needed in my handluggage. I went out expecting to see my Gran. She wasn't there. I got family to call her home and she definately wasn't in.

I wandered around for a half hour, looked for her, sorted some ticket stuff, looked some more, went to the toilet, looked some more, wandered around, looked some more, texted some people now my phone was back on, looked a little more. Then, I saw her. Sitting and looking straight through me. Now blonde mohawk and bright red coat, that's pretty impressive if I'm honest. Turns out she'd had a very similar routine to mine of looking and toilet, and looking and coffee and looking and reading. We'd continually missed each other for 30 minutes.

Also according to EasyJet the flight was an hour delayed. I should point out, they delayed the flight after I'd landed and got off the plane. So we go to find the car and get home. That alone takes another 25 minutes because my lovely Gran had not realised that she'd parked on level -1 and not level 1.

When we get in, I am told I'll be sleeping on the sofa. She has a guest bedroom. I look at her quizically.

"The cats have the guest bedroom now."

I am her only grandchild. Still, the cats are gorgeous. I'm having a grand time here and today I did in fact spend no less than £20 on sweets. I take any past judgement about gummi-crocodiles back. Finally, my mum has done something because my Gran is insistent that I watch German tv all the time. I don't particularly mind watching good German tv, but this morning I watched a woman talking about the different kinds of stitching you need to make a dress...

Daneland

I will be leaving for the airport to go to Denmark in 9 hours. I'm yet to start packing.

Just haven't been in the mood really.

This will be a rush-job I think.

Edaves

We will not want to see you go again

Last night there was a meal out to an Indian restaurant. I do not eat spicy and so ate 2 poppadoms and chicken and chips followed by a lovely lemon sorbet. There were several wonderful friends including one who had travelled all the way from Canada. Oh, we've missed you Edaves.

It was as if she'd never been away, she just fitted perfectly back in and it was wonderful. I stayed over at the friend who was not only hosting Edaves, but the gathering itself. It was a grand night and I almost managed to forget other things on my mind. Truly, truly wonderful.

I have also acquired another diary so I now have a total of 3 writing outlets:

• Day-to-day blogging on here
• The lower emotions (my therapist suggested keeping them separate)
• The new erotica diary in which I will jot down all my filthy thoughts as they come (no pun intended) and I will publish some here, the better ones

I feel most pleased. Today I have done an outrageous amount of biology revision and it is exactly 6 weeks until I have technically finished as an INK. Despite this I know that once an INK, always an INK.

If I used Twitter...

Then, I am certain that I would tweet that I just fell up the stairs and poked my boobs with a banana. That is all.

How to Make Hell and Get Out Alive

I'm not quite sure where to start. Over the last couple of months things have not been easy.


These are the ingredients you will need to replicate this recipe:
A large cup of self-doubt (to be topped up whenever confidence is rising)
One diagnosis of clinical depression
Unlimited amounts of therapy and support
69 pages of raw emotion in the form of a diary (add throughout)
One very painful break-up
A friendship with an ex
The strength to get over the worst of the depression (amount required depends on personal brand)
A million deadlines
A couple oral exams of varying difficulty
A dollop of exam stress (works well accompanied by panic)
A bad and dangerous habit (to be added in moderation)
A sprinkling of laughter, coming from the inside out

If these are added in a reasonable order the Will to Live Life should be rediscovered within an undefined amount of time.