I am sure I have mentioned this before (I am getting old and my memory is failing me), but I love walking. Going for walks is probably one of my most favorite things in the world. Maybe it’s because I know I should never ever ever take the capabilities of my legs for granted — they are not exactly the most reliable part of my body. When I walk, I feel like I am defying everything. With every step I take I am breaking down a barrier, and I am telling the disease that is causing my bones to be frail to go f itself. Every night, I sink together on my couch after a long walk and I feel like I have done my job — I have made myself physically exhausted, just like those jogging away on treadmills for hours in the gym. This, walking, is what I can do to feel normal, healthy and alive, within my body’s realm of possibility.

And it’s all I need. I am happy, I am content. I am walking, breathing, and I go home with a set of lungs full of fresh air and so much hope that I feel like I could burst. I am a flower blooming along with the bushes, trees, and everything else living that is cared for and nurtured by the sun and the earth’s natural resources. Unstoppable, invincible, every walk is like leaving the nest for the first time; brave and with wings that have been neatly patched up by those who love me, those who cared for me when I felt like I would be broken forever. For ten months, my grandparents held my hand and guided me through the fog of a situation that seemed so meaningless. Now, here I am, their babybird. Hope is the thing with feathers…

Sometimes I am joined by my sister, who clearly could have been a prima ballerina assoluta. Such grace, such style.

And sometimes we play. And sometimes I hide in crooked little houses and wave to the camera.

It’s all out there waiting for me.

(I am sorry this took so long, this week has been all homework, assignments and sleep deprivation. And also, learning how to stand on your own two feet again after eight months of being somebody’s guest. Good thing is my leg is doing so much better, and I am having the cast removed on Wednesday).

My kitchen (which less than an hour before I took these pictures looked like a bomb went off) in all its recently-renovated glory.

At some point when everything gets less busy and chaotic, I am going to organize and utilize these shelves much better. Their function right now is to show off my teapot collection.
(I really should have moved the toilet paper out of the way, it’s ruining the feng shui of this picture.)

This cupcake poster, along with two others (that will be featured in another post) are the first items I bought for the new apartment — as a present to it from me. I hope this motive won’t sabotage my new healthy lifestyle (which will commence any day now). Bought from the Green Nest Shop on Etsy.

I am so excited to have a gas stove. My last one was electric, and it took forever and a lunch break to get it going. I am very happy that my oven is electric, though, because, honestly, I don’t really like fire or igniting things.

I am thinking that this picture doesn’t really belong here, but what the hell — let’s move our acquaintanceship to the next level. The Kellogg’s All-Bran is a part of my aforementioned healthy-living project, that will be starting any second now. Speaking of All-Bran — is it really healthy, or is it just BS?

Mary, the orchid, is still going strong.After I moved, I have realized that I don’t really have as many cups as I remembered… which, you know, means that I’ll have to go out and get some. Or go online and get some. Damn it, I hate it when this happens (or I would, if I wasn’t such a cup- bowl- plate- teapot fetishist. I honestly believe you can never have too many.)

***

I haven’t really-really cooked yet. I cooked for the first few days last week, but I tried last Tuesday, but the result was so disastrous that it for days scared me off from trying again — for a while. So I have been eating a lot of bread, and drinking a lot of tea. Actually, I also tried to cook up a soup on Monday, but after sitting in the refrigerator for a day or two, the whole fridge started smelling like wet dog, and so… it is now safe in a tupperware container in the freezer, waiting for the day where I will reach the point of laziness where I, out of convenience alone, won’t mind eating something that smells like wet dog.

I am hoping that that day will never come, though I imagine it to be the perfect end to a day where I have completely tanked in school. It’s like, why not, why not eat a little wet dog soup with bits of potatoes floating around on top.

It’s funny, because I remembered myself as being a… decently good cook. I mean, I always liked what I made. But then I have spent eight months living with my grandmother, also known as The Queen Of French Cuisine, and so my little tummy (which has increased a-plenty in her company) may have gotten used to, you know, -finer foods-, Grandma-foods, rather than my whoopsie-doopsie-it’s-not-that-burned-you-can-fucking-eat-it-stop-complaining cooking. Oh well, gotta get back on that horse again.

You know, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I have (unexpectedly) been rocking this school business lately. Except for my math-midterm today, which I am pretty sure I tanked. Erhm, MOVING ON. Deal and repress, deal and repress.

I got two papers back that were both graded A. Not bad for somebody who suffered a writer’s block from hell just two months ago, am I right am I right am I right. Yup, Baby, I’m back in the game. I have also finally understood trigonometry, which is quite an accomplishment in my head. Trig (I just call it “Trig”, you know, we’re that close) is actually not that hard and is quite enjoyable when you get the hang of it. Only took me a bazillion years. Unfortunately my brain can only handle understanding ONE aspect of mathematics at a time, so I’m hoping my teacher will appreciate my newfound relationship with Trig, as that’s all he’ll be getting from me. Neatly drawn triangles and a couple of doodled elephants. And my signature, ‘course.

I walked home from school today, because the weather is absolutely glorious. If you could eat the weather, I would eat this one. Or at least just lick it. Walking home from my school is not the most exciting thing, as there is nothing fun to look at. You just walk and walk and walk, and despite of the walk being fairly short (we’re talking two and a half kilometers), it feels like you are just walking and walking and walking without actually getting anywhere. Do you know that feeling?

Anyway. Happy Monday, everybody! (Let’s pretend Mondays are something to celebrate). I will leave you with a few pictures of a Danish summer that I took last year, so you can see what I am so desperately looking forward to.

The city, booming with joy and color

Green, green, green

Green, the color of hope is overflowing

Wanderers walking in pure bewonder, life is about to begin.

And no, the title is in no way related to the content of this post, but I just had to throw that question in there somewhere because OH MY GOD that is so wrong. I am watching the re-runs and like, why would they ever go there? ‘Tis so wrong. For those without a clue, I’m talking about Ugly Betty. 

Sunday afternoon we went to the Botanic Garden. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, and it’s the first time I have ever taken Andrew there. As with everything else, I had wanted his first introduction to it to be during the summer, where all the trees and flowers are in bloom. With everything being dead and withered, there really was not much botanic about that garden, but I guess somebody decided we can’t have life and summer and happiness all year round.

Andrew was pretty excited about the gigantic greenhouse, which, I have to admit, IS pretty cool. And huge.

After our massively long walk (3,7 miles!) we went home and I wrote my Biology report. Five pages, baby, with awesome pictures and illustrations to boot. Let it be known that I hate Biology with a fiery passion. The same with Physics. The only science-y class that I can handle… sort of, is Chemistry, which I finished last year (and got a pretty bad grade). No hard feelings, Chemistry, I know now that the feelings weren’t mutual. Guess I had to learn it the hard and humiliating way in front of two teachers.

Andrew is going home on Monday, which is killing me little by little each day. I can’t wait till the day where we can be together all the time. I even dreamt about it last night. I dreamt that I decided to pack up and just go already, enough with all this dilly dally. I only brought a small bag, because I did not feel like I needed anything really. Just my heart, who happens to live in New York. I also dreamt that I was a member of a mob family. Any psychology majors willing to tell me what the EFF that means?

I have been working on this project that I am incredibly excited about. It is going to be so great, and I just have a good feeling in my stomach about it, like I was meant to do this. Get your excite on, I think you will like it!

I want you to see what I saw:

Coming out of a season where even the trees have needed extra scarves to keep warm and pom poms to keep from getting depressed, yesterday felt, smelled and looked like Spring.  I can not remember the last time I have felt happiness like this. I wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by it all. Spring is here. Spring is here. More on our specific endeavors later.

… eat ‘em join ‘em!