Blurb, Easter, Lønstrup and Weight Gain 2000 (and 8)
I have to say that blogging isn’t easy. I mean sure, if you have a topic to write about, like politics, wine, horse riding, pandas or mucus, then you’re sorted. But this sort of random, totally pointless, and at times insanely boring, blog is actually harder than it looks. I recently agreed with a friend who also writes a blog when she said that it’s easier to write an entry when you’re not happy. This is true. As you gathered from my agreeing with her. Anyway. That is not to say that all my longer, ‘better’ entries have been written when I am depressed or furious, not at all. Some of them are written out of love and joy and that shit, but for the most; they are written when I need to get my mind off something in real life, and on to something indifferent.
There are loadsa fings I have wanted to write about recently; Easter, the teapot shaped like Tintin’s head (or did I write that? I forget. I clearly really care about this blog), the dog with a hairclip to hold back it’s fringe (no doubt belonging to a 60 year old woman who wears legwarmers to the supermarket), my recent little trip to Lønstrup (I’ll get on to that – with pictures! Avoid temptation to scroll down), and countless other things that have happened to me, or that I have seen. Yet none of these (until now), have made it on to these pages (isn’t it funny that we refer to the things we see on our screen from the Internet as a ‘page’? It’s not a page anymore than I’m the Lawnmower Man. There is a reason for this, but I won’t divulge it, as my last attempt to do so to someone resulted in, well, it resulted in nothing. Am I in a bracket? Yes) – what was I saying? Right. I’ve not written about these things. I bet you’re devastated about that now. I’ve given you little tasters and now you’re desperate to find out more about the….dog. It’s the dog isn’t it? Well too bad.
Anyway! The reason I am writing now, is not because I am sad. On the contrary, I am really, really happy and dead chuffed with life in general (bar my housing misfortunes – don’t get me started). I am writing because it’s doing my head in seeing ‘blog’ circled in my diary day, after day, after day, after sodding day. Why I feel the need to do this, is beyond me. I was asked why I need to update my Facebook status/write a blog/be so active online, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. Why do I do this? Maybe it’s just an urge to share. Maybe it’s because I just have this sort of crap piling up in me and I have to get it out somehow. Maybe it’s because I am seriously depressed and secretly want to escape into a cyber world. Maybe I am the Lawnmower Man! Oh man…. Who knows. I’m getting way off topic.
To be honest – I don’t really care why I do this. I love the Internet. But I also hate it. We were doing just fine without it. It’s a love/hate thing, which is mostly love, granted, but I hate that we’re so dependant on it. I read a survey recently where an American family stayed offline for a week. They reported feelings of anger, anxiety, stress, depression and guilt. Wtf? ‘Guilt’? ‘Anxiety’? These are seriously weird people. I think I spend a considerable amount of time online, yet on my 3 day holiday to Lønstrup (here it is!), I didn’t have Internet access, and you know what? It was bloody marvellous. Anger my arse. I just don’t understand it all.
Anyway. Enough of that shit. Here are some pictures of Lønstrup, ,which is on the north west coast of Jutland (that’s in Denmark btw. And Denmark is the one that sticks out from Germany. No, it’s not the capital of Sweden). It’s booootiful, but I somehow forgot to take pictures of the actual town. Or village rather. I don’t know. It’s small. I went with the Missus for a 3 day trip to just get away from everything, and so we could return with fresh heads for thesis writing. It was magic.
That lighthouse is being slowly swallowed by the dune. There was a poster in the summer house in which we stayed, from 1992, on which you could see buildings around the lighthouse, cars, people coming to look at lighthouse things, but now – all sand. I love that shit.
The cinema is now a cafe, but was, well, a cinema. How cool is it? The best thing was the film that they were showing - Lady Chatterley's Lover. Ha ha ha. It's now closed. Perhaps D. H. Lawerence was a bit too much for the residents...
Cast your minds back to last month. What happened? Easter. Here are some pictures, for those who give a banana.
Do you see how much I weighed? After 3 days of eating the above? That’s insane, Jack! I normally weigh 10 stone. It’s nuts. I just had to take a picture.
Easter in general was great. It always is. I made cookies which actually worked. Last year I tried to do the same, but misread the recipe and instead of 36 tablespoons of flour (don’t ask why its 36 tablespoons and not something like 200 grams or whatever. Don’t), I put in 36 serving spoons of flour. After mixing the ingredients, I found, as you would guess, that the resulting…stuff, was extremely…floury and impossible to make into cookie shapes. Maybe impossible was the wrong word, as I did manage to do it, but just piling little mounds of the, ahem, dough, on to a baking sheet. When they came out of the oven, they looked like white cowpats. Some people had a little chew on them, out of courtesy, but mostly, they were just passed around. Woe was me. Anyway, as said, I managed it (thanks to Mum for stopping me from making exactly the same mistake again this year), and they were eaten. Yum. I just love it when cookies come straight from the oven, and you have to bend them slowly, slowly, chocolate glistening and oozing, until they pull apart. Divine. God I love them.
Right now, I can’t remember anything else as exciting as the cookie story from Easter. I bet you’re happy about that. I know I am.