You Are Could I?

The heath found its way to London and no one knows what to do. It's too hot to stand and it's too hot to talk. But it's lovely and it makes everything and everyone shimmering. So thats nice. My milky way legs are in shock though, they're not prepared for this and I don't know what to do for them. Stay in the shade is probably the best idea right now. What I would like to do though is to lay in the grass in a park somewhere, but you gotta work. I'll put myself out on the terrace now to at least get some sun today. Let's see what my legs think about that. 


Sweet thing

Sometimes I pretend that life is a movie, but only sometimes, and when I do that I always pick a song to go with that situation. Over the years I've struggled with picking the ultimate love song. I have recently realized that it is definitely 'Sweet thing' by Van Morrison. Definitely. So when the day comes when I meet my dude, I hope someone will take the initiative and put it on. Cause it's awesome. 



Crocodile in the sky

Today I slept through my alarm. First time in my life. As I'm sleeping in the kitchen I need to wear earplugs, which I am counting on to fall out every night. Because they always do. Except for today. It's quite thrilling to oversleep, to see to what extent you can rush yourself. I did good, done and gone in 27 minutes. Wow. Just wow.
Other than that, three comstumers complimented my coffee. That's something.


6000 seconds

I live in a dream land flat. Everything is white and peachy and right outside our door is the great Stoke Newington. And my flatmate is awesome. That's all for today.




Today is the day when my baby sister becomes a teenager and I can't call her my baby sister anymore, but I will do that anyway. Because she will always be a baby years old for me. I hope she will have an undramatic teenage period. These things are scary, cause it means I'm getting so fricking old too. We're all getting old. And wiser. Hopefully.

I'm still struggling with this odd never ending hungover of mine, or whatever it is. Every time I am to turn my head it feels like it's falling off my neck. Not even coffee tastes good. And I'm sweating and shivering at the same time.

Love to Lovisa!


Adam Sackler

Today I'm suffering from a two day long hungover and have just managed to stand up straight for more than a minute. The good thing about these days is that you're completely allowed to do nothing. When you are, I always get the urge to do everything. Like everything you never, but always want to do, but don't do because they make you feel like you're not achieving enough with your day. I always end up watching series. Or writing. I've done both today, and I am very glad I chose to watch Girls. Girls is amazing, it's got the perfect mix of misery and humour, and I fell in love with Adam. 

Soon my little flatmate will be home, and we will start another show called Suits. Apparently it's good.
And also, yesterday at the market my hand was target for a massive blob of boiling oil and you can see the outline of its splash. High life.


Sunny Rain

I feel like I'm going to die. Literally. Every single time you go out, you seem to have forgotten how horrible that hungover that awaits you the next day is. It's like you don't believe the horribleness, because when you feel normal you can't actually imagine that kind of misery. That's how I'm feeling right now. And I've spent the whole day on the market, surronded by cheese in all its forms. I was so close to throw up right on top of a plate of raclette. But I didnt. It's amazing how you can make yourself adapt to the state your in, and just get on with it.
I'm glad this day is finally over. Will carry on with force feeding myself with yoghurt and try to keep my eyes open till 8 o'clock.




I've just realized that I am somewhat of a pushover. I simply can't ignore people. Yesterday I was in a shoe store, and was trying on a pair of shoes. One of those super positive and hip sales assistants came up to me and started smile-talking. She was super hip and positive and said that pimpsoles are really cool, and 'You want to get them, yeah?' Instead of saying 'No' and just hand them to her, I started mumbling on about how they made me too tall. And that since my back is crooked, I need to be careful with what kind of shoes I wear. As if she would care? Really? Just walk away, man.

I need to man up.