Welcome, newcomers!

The lake that we live by sure froze over fast when winter came. Hm.

It's odd how every time I seem to "forget" about blogging, there's new followers just falling over my blog.

Hmm..

Well, I am gonna admit to you guys what I've done lately.. I've gone analog. I KNOW, right?
I think it's the weather (the winter that's assaulted us the last week) that makes me want to do nothing. I take my responsibilites, doing laundry/doing the dishes/showering/going to work/making sure I've got lunch at work/etc, but other than that? Not much. I feel like a bear that has gone into hiding for the winter. And the winter has only been rearing our asses for about a week. Now it's trickling from the roofs again. Come hither, spring!

Also, I've been falling back on my old missed habits and is currently queueing litterature that's gonna fill my brain with thoughts and make those wheels turn around something other than myself. Because only thinking about one self is really tiring. So 90's, right? But books RULE, MAN. They're quiet, doesn't wake you when you've fallen asleep with shrieky commericals and most importantly - you LEARN things!

Of course, this thing with books follow the same pattern as the rest of my life - I don't enjoy fiction at even one percent of how much I enjoy non-fiction. I haven't read a ficticious book in years (well, I do read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy every other year). I know I should be reading all sorts of books because it's an excellent way of developing the art of writing and soaking up wonderful imagery and stories, but I just can't bear it. I get bored and fantasize about books containing colourful pictures of things found in the ground, seeing marks after people that lived thousands of years ago instead of just reading about some drawn character that systematically puts him/herself in a mess just to make up a story. Real life always trumps fantasy.

Of course this has made me, since as a child I discovered that I actually don't need to watch movies, a black sheep. Because who doesn't loooove to watch movies? Movies movies movies! Oh, this really touching draaaama, you have to see it! You haven't seen it?! You don't like MOVIES? Oh my god." and it has caused me problems with this whole hanging-out-with-humans-thing. Because at times in my life, I've gotten the choice of drinking heaps of alcohol or watching movies. That's apparently what humans do together. And I don't want to do any of it = social misscarriage. Oh, and the fact that I'm kind of invortvert doesn't help there, either.

I mean, I DO watch movies (it's impossible to deny Jurassic Park I it's awesome worth in movie history, for example) but not ALL FRIGGIN MOVIES THAT WAS EVER CREATED. Bf's the total way around. He watches movies, almost for the sake of watching movies. He likes movies. Lucky me that he also enjoys documentaries very much, which is something I can spend evenings with. Just watching documentaries, about this and that.

I don't even know why I'm like this, it's just gotten clearer with the years. Spending hours in front of my friends/boyfriends computer while they watch that friggin drama about whatever. Can't stand it.Oh, I also love crossword puzzles and jigsaw puzzles. I can "watch" a movie in the presence of those two distractions. But other than that, I very rarely spend time watching movies. I wish I loved all sorts of movies because people obviously really like it. But no.

But I will now, to restore some of you guys's faith in me, list some movies that I actually enjoy watching:
Jurassic Park (But really, we all know this is a documentary. Just a really perfectly filmed/cut one).
Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail.
Clerks.
Mallrats.
Dirty Dancing (I know, but I'm not gonna be ashamed!!! Because nobody puts baby in a corner!)
The old classical Poirot movies. You know the ones.
The old classical 80's Sherlock Holmes movies, with the man that looks like an insane eagle. Awesome.
Sleepy Hollow/Red Riding Hood/other things that crazy man has done.
I can also appreciate some movies for their sheer estetics, like The Return of the King.
Generally dark, mysterious and castle-y and crimey stories.
Boondock Saints. Had to google this one, apparently it's a common thing to google the words "irish brothers movie"..

Now my tech savvy session is at its end for this time. Now I will cuddle into bed with a book, where two very literate men are writing about how this country came to be, well, this very country. I've recently read a 68-page forum thread about this very topic (yes, it took like two months to get through it, holy crap archaeologists), so it fits in perfectly. GOD I love history.

G'night!

That kind of Friday.

Just a couple of minutes ago, I was sitting by the computer, going through old pictures of things I've experienced in my earlier years. I always reflect back with a certain amount of nostalgia, but with more melancholy. I don't even know why. I've always asked myself why I can't look back at my past with a sense of satisfaction or relief or happiness. There's always something shadowing the good times, and I dont even know what it is.

Lately, I've been feeling like I've lost myself. I look in the mirror but I can't seem to place myself anywhere. I'm just out there. Looking like a deer in the headlights at the things coming at me. Im never really at home, I'm never at ease and I don't feel that I'm where I should be. Funny word, this should. Thing is, I don't have a clue where this feeling comes from, because I can't think of anywhere special where I should be. Apart from with my wonderful fiancé, that is currently sleeping in the couch downstairs, fever ridden and slow, I can't think of anywhere where it would feel totally natural to be.

Maybe I'm just this way. Something's always gonna go missing, inspite of how perfect my life seems this very moment. A few years back, when I started tearing myself from the depression that had been keeping me in its claws for such a long time, I felt this way when I was happy. There was just something so empty and.. uncomplicated about the feeling of being satisfied, that I didn't know how to even handle it. Maybe its one of those times now. It's hard to grasp and even harder to come to terms with.

So instead of burying myself in thoughts that will have no conclusion, I decided to go to my room, prop myself against the wall, bring some chocolate with me and whip out the book my mom got me for Christmas. Fresh sheets, tasty candy and a dwelling in someone elses past. I think this should do it. Make my Friday night good instead of filled with lingering feelings of something that I cannot solve. Because mysteries in ones own life isn't quite as entertaining as others.