Monday, November 30, 2009

Damn Those Hyenas

Am I the only one who feels like there are too many Mondays in a week? It was touch and go there for a while last week, but I made it. I finished the essay on time. And my reward was a Bachelor’s degree in political science. I now officially have a degree and I am on my way towards a Master’s. I want to say “yay!” but I know how much work I have left and it doesn’t feel like ”yay!” at all.

At the moment I’m sitting in M’s apartment, trying to do homework, but I'm mostly just listening to his washing machine. As are probably all his neighbors. It spits water and fire and it sounds like he’s stuffed a couple of wild hyenas in there and they’re now battling it out for their life. And they’re probably eating my socks as well. I can’t wait to get my own quiet non-sock eating washing machine over here. I swear, I have two legs and two feet, but somehow one sock still goes missing from every pair. Damn those hyenas.

It’s been a busy weekend. Yesterday M’s parents came over and helped us put together this:

It looks deceptively simple. A couple of doors, a frame and a few shelves inside, how hard can it be? Seems pretty straight forward, right? You’re wrong! It took M and his dad hours of blood, sweat and tears to put that thing together. Luckily, my job was mostly just to make dinner and to give completely useless advice. But by the end of the day our bedroom was pretty much done, and all that’s needed now is some art on the walls. Now that feels like “yay!”

On Saturday M, Muschu and I went to visit my parents. When my Grandpa was still alive Muschu, my brother and I would make a gingerbread house together with him every year. It used to look something like this:

Last year Grandpa was too ill to make the house with us, so Muschu and I took it upon ourselves to help our little brother with the house. Turns out when Muschu and I are let loose on a gingerbread house, not even a 13-year old boy can stop us and we tend to go all Barbie on it. Last year’s gingerbread house, in all it’s pink glory, looked a little bit like this:

This year Grandpa is sadly not with us anymore, so on Saturday Muschu and I once again helped our little brother with this year’s gingerbread house. Turns out Barbie wasn’t enough. This year’s house looks like a My Little Pony chew it up and spit it out all pink and white and fluffy. I’m not sure our very macho teenage brother is all that happy with how it turned out, but he’s the one who ate all the green candies so he can just blame himself.



  1. I love your very cute and girly gingerbread houses. But I love the fact that you're continuing your grandfather's tradition even more. I'm sure he's looking down on you, very pleased indeed.



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