I'm just posting because the sandwich I just finished eating was the best sandwich I've ever eaten. And in Belgium they looooove their sandwichs. It was called the Zorba and was made with feta and pulled chicken and red peppers. The best sandwich in the world.

Also, I'm listening to a cover of Joyful Girl by Ani DiFranco. Who's covering it? Dave Matthews. It's hot. I'd post a link but quite obviously don't know how. Call me and I'll hold the phone up to my laptop, or sing it to you or something.

I'm supposed to be writing a paper that's due tomorrow which I have yet to start, but my room is finally empty and the sun is shining and I finally got to wear my Hellcats Rollerderby tank top out. It got the desired response, which is people either going 'oooh, pretty in pink' (It's pink) or 'oooooh, Hellcat' Which is better than the usual greetings I get which rarely ever contain an 'oooooh'.

Did I ever tell you the one about the guy caught having sex with the tailpipe of a tractor?

I feel like money and I made out at a party and now every time I try to look it in the eye (pay for things, like rent) it just avoids the hell out of me.

Yet again, I return home from a wonderful trip where everything is candy canes and rainbows to get bitch slapped by the inevitability that is this: Money hates my guts. It likes it when I use it, then punishes me as soon as I decide to take responsability. I don't have enough to make rent and this time, ha-ha! The visa doesn't seem to be working either. Weeee! You're jealous aren't you? At least its sunny and beautiful so the cardboard box I'll have to live in will stay firm for a few days before being reduced to a pulpy mass that I spread over myself before crying myself to sleep.

When I got home last night and started running in to people again things had changed. Seems that while I was gone I missed a lot of lasts. The last jazz night at Stuk. The last music night at Wink. All this passed while I was in Spain. The hugs I got upon my return were a little longer. The 'I missed you's seemed a lot more sincere. Turns out I'm the last person who's going to return before we all start leaving for real. Exams and final papers will distract us all from this, but it lingers like the smell of grass. Goodbyes start in a month.

I love the girls I´m travelling with.
I do.
I swear to whatever God reigns over whichever country you´re in.
However, they have taught me more about who I am, and more honestly, what I can put up with, over the past 2 weeks than anyone ever could or will.

Vegetarians, I love you, stay away from Spain.

If I had a nickle for every time I've been busted for 'West Side Story'ing my way home from somewhere, I'd have 7 nickels.

Fun Fact: 4 out of 7 times I'm busted while jazzing my way up and down stairs. And I'm always singing the melody because I only know three lines of the Jets/Sharks song.

Warning, feminine hygiene words below

Stacey and JenBrown bought a bunch of airport magazines for their flight and left them with me before going to Paris. On my train ride back to town I flipped through the thickest one, assuming it would take me the majority of the half-hour journey, if not the whole thing. 7 minutes later I was on to the next one. Of the four magazines, the most noteworthy thing I found was an add for tampons.

Aside from all the ergonomic advancements they claim to have made, the improved half of 'new and improved' included three new colours! Pink, purple and yellow! WHAT THE FUCK? What kind of women is society trying to create here? Sufficed to say, I was disgusted and left the magazines on the train.

The best part of this full page ad was the slogan at the bottom. Four words. Each one extolling the virtues of the product. I can't remember the first three, but I assume it went something like this.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. FABULOUS!

FABULOUS? WHAT THE FUCK!?! Advertising in girl magazines makes my ears bleed.

Joe is leaving on Monday. He is going back to Canadia.

This, coupled with the fact that I need to get three weeks worth of work done before Saturday at 1, and the bottle of wine I just drank have made me wistful. I promise not to get any nostalgia all over you.

I just hate that I spent the past 9 months creating a family, and as of next week its gone. Who am I going to talk about the mysteries of monkey knife fights and YTV's Deepwater Black with now?

The next few days will be an equal ration of uber-hard work and UBER-hard drinking. My liver and brain will be comrades in punishment.

It's moments like these, the beautiful, precious moments you share with your most favorite people, that I will inevitably sneeze a mouthful of pastry all over the back of my hand. Twice.