Listening to:

I'm back to living in Kingston once more, as necessitated by my not-yet-finished undergrad degree, and it's shaping up okay. It's not wonderful, it's not brilliant, it's not a delight at every street corner, but it's alright for a year. I do have to wear a hat already, though, because my little noggin is no longer used to the harsh clime of Ontario autumn, but it is presumable that I will adapt soon enough. And basically, the only things I miss day to day are the goth children who sat around the Royal Mile (why? what's so hot about the tourist centre of the city?), and the bottled curry sauces at Tesco. I have had a craving for jalfrezi for six weeks now, and it will not be quenched.

On the other hand, rootbeer and gingerale flow freely from every restaurant beverage tap, so I am appeased.

Anyway, this entry doesn't look like it's going anywhere, but I thought it best to at least make the gesture of starting it all up again. I need to ease myself back into writing journal-appropriate nonsense, so just be patient with me, will you? I am delicate like a flower, and nervous like a fawn.

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