tristane

So, things are slowly floating down to normal. Despite its gray and cold weather Sweden feels like a good worn-in shoe that you had forgotten how well it fit. Two days and a new year in Lund has given me more action than the last couple of months in Ireland. Apparently I have a fan in L up in Stockholm, the witty guy with the moustache, and I spent yesterday and most part of the morning today with one of Jessie's friend from the School Nation. Really sweet guy who, as I happened to find out rather soon, was an ex marine soldier and had done service in one of Swedens toughest divisions.

I was not displeased.

After having returned to Jessie's place and spending the morning cleaning it up fairly from the celebrations yesterday, wondering whether it was at all possible for nine people to bring up so many glasses or if they had simply duplicated over night, we have decided to spend the evening in the kitchen along with chocolate and my second bottle of red wine, making this my seventh night in a row with alcohol. I am getting old. It is starting to get to me. Get to me good.

The intensity of the last couple of days has left me harmonic, happy and newly shagged, but also insanely tired. It got to me half an hour ago. Suddenly I just felt like falling down on the floor. Out of concideraion for the delicate heritage teacups I was just trying to wash I decided to take a break. I am going to have to take a nap before anything happens in this house tonight,