A belated happy 2011! My posting for the new year has been delayed, and if you’re the sort who really enjoys reading this blog (I’m not sure if that sort even exists), I am sorry for the wait! Over the Christmas season, I had a thoroughly lovely time at home, and I didn’t spend much extended time on my computer; thus, lack of posts. But I am back in The ‘Couv now, and the frequency of posts shall increase dramatically. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - right now, in fact: The best part about leaving home is returning back to it. I was back in Newfoundland for a month and it was time well spent. I definitely appreciated this Christmas more than I have others in recent memory, because every moment mattered. I saw almost all of my favourite people, met some lovely new friends, and rarely saw my bed before 3am. It was nice to sit on the couch and listen to Mom playing old hymns on her new accordion (and when I say nice, I really mean I tolerated it), watch Glee with the sister
Sometimes I have thoughts. As I was sitting in my English class the other day, not listening to my prof repeat verbatim the same announcements that she gave the previous three classes, I wrote some of them down: Russian is my favourite language (well, a close second to English, anyway). Those “romantic” languages that everyone else goes wild over - French, Italian, Spanish - are not particularly pleasing to my ear. They all sound like whoever is repeating them is just trying to woo the listener back to their hotel room; or, at least, that’s what I imagine they’re saying. Russian and other Eastern European languages have this lilt to them that sort of sound like the speaker is chewing bubble gum and their tongue got caught in the wad they were gnawing on while trying to ask the grizzled postal worker the price of stamps. It sounds like the pleasant glob noise that honey and other sticky viscous substances make when they hit the inside of a ceramic bowl. *dreamy sigh* I like a lot
A few days ago, my friend Lauren and I were sitting on my bed, eating snacks and Googling how much it would cost to see Brody Jenner DJ at a local Hallowe'en party, when she noticed a framed picture from a Broadway musical on my bookshelf. "Wait," she said, agog. "Did Daniel Radcliffe actually autograph that picture?" "Yeah. My lifetime friend and her husband got it for me when they went to New York on their honeymoon. They ran across midtown to get to the theatre in time to meet him at the stage door, and they thrust this picture at him and he signed it! They didn't tell me until they came home from their trip and asked to come over right away. I was totally into seeing their pictures and hearing about their adventure, but as soon as they came over, they insisted on showing me this video on their phone; lo and behold, it was of Daniel Radcliffe signing this picture! And as I shrieked, she produced this framed picture. I, of course, wept."