Hello, dear diary. It's been ages, as usual. But I'm tipsy and retrospective, so let's try to rehash the last month or so.
For a long while I've been convinced that if I ever was to have a piece of music that got played whenever I entered a room (you know, my personal intro), then it would be the guitar part from Hazy Shade of Winter. Because obviously.
Now I'm listening to Hazy Shade of Winter on YouTube.
Anyway, there's another contender. I think it's an intro for those precious moments when I feel totally in touch with my mindblowing sexhualitay:
Seriously though, it's pretty haunting.
We went to Birmingham for about a week. It was yet another one of those low-intensity episodes, and I couldn't shake off the thought that it's weird to fly all the way to Britain to play WoW in the evenings and go to movies and stuff... but when I was able shove aside this nagging and somewhat abstract preconception of a "foreign adventure", it felt great. We went to a really fun poetry event, which incidentally is a phrase I have just retired, as I doubt I'll ever use it again. We saw Stratford-upon-Avon, and don't. And we went to Jamie Oliver's restaurant, which for some reason became my most vivid memory of the batch. I think it's a case of retroactive retouching, but I really loved the place, as a space to sit around in and feel vaguely jubilant (the food itself was ok, but so not the focal point). In hindsight it seems so warm and golden-bronze. I'd get into details, but i don't think I can do it justice, and I'm not even sure there's any justice to be done. It's just one of those subjective time capsules, and I've already dwelled on it more than enough.
If I have one regret it's probably that Karolina was so overworked and tired from the baby's antics, that we hardly had a chance to have any "moments" (I'd say "talk to each other" but it's sort of a different animal).
Ok, I was certain I had enough fuel for a huge sprawling tirade, but I'm literally falling asleep at the desk, so that's it for now. Hope to continue at a more convenient date.
For a long while I've been convinced that if I ever was to have a piece of music that got played whenever I entered a room (you know, my personal intro), then it would be the guitar part from Hazy Shade of Winter. Because obviously.
Now I'm listening to Hazy Shade of Winter on YouTube.
Anyway, there's another contender. I think it's an intro for those precious moments when I feel totally in touch with my mindblowing sexhualitay:
Seriously though, it's pretty haunting.
We went to Birmingham for about a week. It was yet another one of those low-intensity episodes, and I couldn't shake off the thought that it's weird to fly all the way to Britain to play WoW in the evenings and go to movies and stuff... but when I was able shove aside this nagging and somewhat abstract preconception of a "foreign adventure", it felt great. We went to a really fun poetry event, which incidentally is a phrase I have just retired, as I doubt I'll ever use it again. We saw Stratford-upon-Avon, and don't. And we went to Jamie Oliver's restaurant, which for some reason became my most vivid memory of the batch. I think it's a case of retroactive retouching, but I really loved the place, as a space to sit around in and feel vaguely jubilant (the food itself was ok, but so not the focal point). In hindsight it seems so warm and golden-bronze. I'd get into details, but i don't think I can do it justice, and I'm not even sure there's any justice to be done. It's just one of those subjective time capsules, and I've already dwelled on it more than enough.
If I have one regret it's probably that Karolina was so overworked and tired from the baby's antics, that we hardly had a chance to have any "moments" (I'd say "talk to each other" but it's sort of a different animal).
Ok, I was certain I had enough fuel for a huge sprawling tirade, but I'm literally falling asleep at the desk, so that's it for now. Hope to continue at a more convenient date.
