family – Page 8 – Honest Lies

“Giving it all, putting it together, I look forward to some changes in life.”

This week not much has happened. It was the last week of the Autumn term and there were hardly any lectures, and I spent most of it in the library battling to make progress with revision. It still does not go very well, I’m struggling to concentrate and to get things done. I still feel overwhelmed by it all.

On Wednesday I had a little break when I went out to dinner with my Japanese classmates and sensei to a Japanese restaurant. It was a little awkward, for starters I over planned the journey and arrived 50 minutes early and had to sit at a bus stop for 40 minutes in the freezing cold, and then when I got there I did not know anyone, but eventually I settled into it and surprised myself by joining in to various conversations around me. It helped that everyone was very friendly, and interesting. We talked a lot about travel and Japan and that was nice. I loved being able to talk about my love for these things and not feel ashamed about it – because you are surrounded by people who have similar experiences, who have their own unique experiences, who love Japan just as much. I liked that I could be open about being South African, and no one cared. I actually really, really like how at this stage of life I can be open about being South African – though it makes me sad to think I have already given up my accent because before no one would accept me when I talked that way. Anyway, It was nice. I felt nervous and self conscious but I coped and even enjoyed myself a little. And although there were slight moments of awkwardness, I do not think I said anything too embarrassing. As for the food, I had vegetable soba noodles with karaage chicken, and it was delicious. Thankfully I could still use chopsticks after a few months of not using them, and my Japanese teacher used me as an example of how to eat soba to another girl who had the same thing (I smiled and did not mention I had looked it up on youtube before coming there.) I then followed it by a naughty matcha latte, which I regretted later as it irritated the hell out of my eczema. I guess I’ve been dairy free for a while now and I wanted to try milk again, just to see what would happen. Although I love the bitter taste of matcha, I no longer feel that appeal for milk, nor do I like how it makes me feel. It was good to discover that. Anyway, Japanese classes ended last Tuesday – with our sensei showing us Waterboys. It was the third time I’ve see that movie, but it never gets less funny. It was another little break. I do worry about Japanese, I struggle to find time to fit it in, but I like that it gives me a break from engineering, that it gives me something a bit different to do with my week. Consequently I signed up for level 2 part 2 next semester. Hopefully next Semester I will have more time!

It is quite hard to believe how quickly Christmas is approaching. I finally got around to booking train tickets to go home the other day. It feels strange to say it that way, that I am going home. Everyone asks me “when are you going home?” too. But it does not feel like I am returning home. Being in my childhood bedroom feels comfortable and familiar, but I no longer associate my parental home as home. It feels quite grown up to say it like this, that I am just visiting my family – arriving in the afternoon on the 24th and leaving early on the 27th. It feels right to do it like that though – I really do not feel like spending any more time with my family. I need my own space, my own routine. I have always felt fairly certain that the UK isn’t home, but it is only after Malaysia that I realise the extent I have long been detached from the idea of settling down here – seeing my family occasionally and communicating with them through email or over the phone feels right, this house I currently live in feels nice, but temporary. I am itching to get away from it all – and with just over a year and a half of my degree left to go I find myself anticipating my future career and the opportunities it may land me. I feel filled with hope of being able to go abroad – even just for a few weeks a year is fine. The thought of staying in the same place forever makes me feel uneasy.

Job applications are slowly coming along. I’ve sent off four applications now, and need to send off another one before I feel I would have done enough for this year. The process of writing cover letters and competency questions is stressful, but I also cannot help but feel excited. I find myself spending time idly reading through the information on company websites, or flicking through pamphlets gathered from the careers fair, trying to picture working, and mostly failing, but feeling excited nonetheless. Its worrying, to find myself falling so completely head over heels for companies that may never hire me, but its hard to stop myself. I often doubt whether choosing engineering was the right choice, whether I am suited for this subject, but this process of applying to jobs has really made me realise just how much I do nevertheless love this subject, and just how much I want to have a career as an engineer. It’s scary, I really do not know when I became qualified enough to take on a minor engineering role in major company roles. Although I am jumping ahead of myself here – although technically I may be at that level, it remains to be seen if any companies actually want to hire me. I am filled with anticipation though, constantly checking my emails, glancing at the phone out the corner of my eye. I find searching and applying for jobs, and the thought of working as an engineer, so surreal, but I want it so badly. I hope it all works out.

Next week I need to try and settle into a good study routine. Time is running out and I need to start getting somewhere with it. I also have a counselling appointment on Monday, and I need to see the doctor at some point too. I’m still really messed up and I cannot say things are improving there, but I am continuing to make small steps towards recovery… I guess. Either way, as nervous as I am about Monday, I am looking forward to getting some of my thoughts out of my head. I am so anxious, so worried, so stressed. I think it will help to talk about it. I want to have my old focus back, I want to stop being so afraid, to stop feeling so useless. I think I am too hard on myself sometimes, and that maybe I could be an interesting and capable person if I had more confidence, but thinking that and accepting it are two different things.

Post Title: Vanness Wu - Is this all?

“Subdued, I stand here all by myself…time passes quickly, vanishing from reality”

Saturday, 31/08/2013 22:41

This summer felt like it was passing by slowly, with every day in that house with my family filled with unease and anger. Lots of anger. For reasons I cannot get into I was so very angry. I have not been in a very good place these past few weeks, tense and over emotional. This blog was forgotten about, I was too ‘busy’ trying to distract myself from my feelings by doing nothing at all. I was unhappy. Even when my aunt was here, my dads friend… it all just passed me by. Before I knew it, it was the 30th of August, September was looming imminently and I was packing up once more, moving once more. I was keen to get away from my family, from that house, but also nervous. Packing was annoying, the fact that moving marked the start of the no doubt quick count down to university starting, made me anxious. But no matter what I wanted, how much I wanted to avoid doing anything, I had no choice but to start up again.

I moved into my new house just yesterday. My new one bedroom house that I would be living in by myself. It’s right on the edge of suburbia, and I admit I fell in love with the peaceful area more than the house itself- but it was an interesting sort of place, a bit old, but spacious and with everything I needed.

My father and I set off in the early afternoon on Friday, with a car that was strangely more empty than it had been when we drove down to this city for my first year of university. Google map lady sent us on a little wild goose chase but we did finally land up at the estate agents, about 15 minutes late. Paperwork was signed, fees were paid and then I had the keys to my new place.

We arrived at the house in the late afternoon. I opened the front door for the first time and any excitement I felt was cut in half at the state the house was in. The walls were scuffed and stained, the carpets were stained and filthy, there was stinking washing in the washing machine, dishes and sponges in the sink, half eaten food in the fridge, rubbish piled in kitchen cabinets and drawers. Upstairs was a little better- the bedroom carpet was filthy, but not as marked with questionable stains. The cupboard door was broken, and the cupboard dirty, but no other surprises. The bathroom was a little mouldy, and there were hairs in the bath, a towel hanging at the door. We took the washing and threw it on the line outside. We unloaded the car and had a long look around, taking pictures and thinking about where things would go. Then we headed off to TESCO on a quest for bleach, multi surface cleaner and lots of strong kitchen towel. On return my father and I set about trying to get the place in order. We managed to get the place vacuumed and the kitchen mostly cleaned, then decided to leave the rest for the next day. My father had a pillow and a sleeping bag and would take the living room. I had some bin bags and two fleece blankets to arrange into some kind of bed in the bedroom. I laid down the bin bags, then placed a blanket over, then rolled up the other blanket to form a pillow. Tired and overwhelmed I laid down on the hard floor and tried to sleep, and tried to sleep. I was either uncomfortable and warm, or comfortable and cold. My legs hurt, my neck was bent in a strange way, I was cold. It was very dark and very quiet, and the house kept making strange noises, as houses tend to do, but every one set off my nerves. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but certainly it was in the early hours of the morning.

Around 7.40am I startled awake, feeling as if I’d not slept at all. Feeling stiff and sore and cold. My father was fast asleep. I sat and pondered what to do, as I tried to get feeling other than pain to return to my legs. Eventually I decided to shower, but the shower was broken. Eventually, I cleaned the bath out and ran a bath. It was not nice- I could just picture some of that strangers hair escaping notice.

Today was spent mostly at IKEA – buying all the many, many things that make up a house. It started off fairly restrained- a table, some desks. We had lunch – meatballs, of course. Then we got to the market hall and it all went a bit extravagant. We ended up with a huge trolley full and a flatpack trolley, too. At the checkout I struggled to unload it all, with the couple behind me making snarky remarks to try and get me to go faster (douchebags) Then we had to go stand at the warehouse collection point, an hour passing by excruciatingly slow before my father decided to go question why our things had not come, only to find that our things had already come through but they’d lost the order information for it, so had not called out the order number. Delightful. We got out of there and shoved everything into the car and came back to the house to start to put everything together. With each new piece of furniture the place started to feel less frightening and a tiny bit more like my home. It’s still a bit in disrepair- but its getting closer to being liveable. I am sat at my wonderful new desk- with a little shelf on it, and a study lamp. This will be my study area. to the side of me is the front window, upon the windowsill I have lined up my collection of cacti. I have 6, now. Upstairs the cupboard has been cleaned out and had shelving placed in it, alongside the rails that are already there. I have actually managed to start unpacking into that. My father put up a small desk in my bedroom, at the window that overlooks the fields, if you look far to the right and squint a bit. The late afternoon sun casts a warm, golden glow on the place, softens the dirt and questionable stains, and with the shiny new furniture the place almost looks attractive. My father left earlier, to go back home and collect the next and last bunch of stuff. Tomorrow he will come back and we’ll build up the last of the furniture and clean some more no doubt, and hopefully then I’ll finally be able to unpack. I’ll also finally be able to get groceries. Tonight’s dinner was cold chicken, and a bowl of cereal. I spent some time pottering about the kitchen earlier- rearranging my kitchen cupboard contents, just to keep my mind off the fact I am all alone in this strange, new place.

I still do not have a mattress for my bed. I am going to be sleeping on cardboard tonight though, and in a sleeping bag, with a pillow. What luxury, right.

Friday, 06/09/13 00:14

Today I had to wash my hair with a jug and minimal hot water. It was messy and not entirely effective, bearing in mind how long my hair is and that I do not use shampoo. I have now been a week in my new house, trying to settle in despite the glaringly obvious faults with the place.

Last Saturday night I had a sleeping bag, a pillow and some cardboard to make up my bed that night, alongside my fleece blankets. It was nowhere near as comfortable as a bed would be, but a marked improvement over the previous nights arrangement. I woke up early, feeling warm and without pain and set about getting ready in anticipation of my father coming. In the meantime I did some chores, attempted to scrounge some food and ended up sitting, staring out the window, phone clutched in hand as I waited for my father. At around three he bangs at my door impatiently and tells me, immediately upon my opening it, that we are to set of immediately to ASDA as they close in an hour. I was in my home clothes, I was hungry, neither of us even knew where the nearest ASDA was and I was not impressed. Regardless he started to get things out the car as I went to get changed. We left and went to the shops, and in our hurry I miss most of what was on my list. At least we managed to get appliances. I was more than grateful to have gained a kettle, microwave, toaster and other such kitchen necessities. My father built furniture, I tidied and cooked. Eventually we sit for a meal at my brand new dining table, in a house that had certainly begun to feel more like home. More like mine.

I have furniture now (including a bed and mattress, Sunday night I slept very well indeed), appliances, a well stocked fridge and plants brightening up every window (except my kitchen window where my herbs slowly wilt as I am unable to replant them.) I have spent my week being lazy, much in the same way as I was at home I stay indoors and try to avoid the fact that perhaps I am still sad.

I am growing to like this place. My kitchen is perhaps my favourite space. It’s small, but I enjoy pottering about it in the late afternoon, when the sun is pouring through the windows. I set a loaf of bread to rise earlier in the week upon my windowsill such that it could bask in that sun. It rose beautifully and lets not later talk about how I later burnt it as I am unused to my oven. I still don’t have a shower, which is annoying. Really, the house is filled with things that need fixing and that is a major annoyance, but I have been negotiating with my land lord and have high hopes that repairs will be carried out, so that this place can truly fulfil its potential. Its a lovely place really, once it’s fixed it certainly will be, and I do feel blessed to be living alone like this.

My dad remarked to me that I am really starting to stand on my own two feet now and indeed I am certainly becoming very independent. Which I see as a plus and also a minus of growing up. I’ve spent more time on the phone in the last week than I probably have in my whole life- the council, the electricity providers, the water company, the letting agency. For the first time I have bills. I’m beginning to have an understanding of the true cost of living – how you don’t just pay for electricity, but pay a standing charge just for having it, how you don’t just pay for internet, but have to pay line rental too. And there are other things where you suddenly find yourself feeling lost and wishing for someone’s guidance, to hold you accountable. I am trying to understand what is allowed in my recycling bin and when the bin men come and to collect what. I am trying to feed myself properly and not overeat, without anyone around to make me feel shame. I am trying to keep my place clean- to wash my dishes everyday and not let clutter build up. I am trying just to wake up at a reasonable hour every day, even if I don’t have to. I like living alone, I like the quiet and independence but sometimes the quiet gets quite too much (especially at night, where every little noise still makes me a tiny bit nervous) and I wish my dad was here to deal with everything for me. I have emailed my dad nearly every day this week, and I don’t think its because I’m lonely but rather that I’m a little scared, a little nervous and want reassurance that I am doing OK. There is a lot I still have to learn about living independently, still have to get used to.

Saturday, 07/09/13 17.28

I wish I could say that I was OK but that would be a lie. Anger fades, turns to a lingering sadness. The anxiety does not go away. I wish I had the courage to be fully honest with my dad – to ask him to send me some flowers or something, because I want to be comforted. I just want someone to say that its OK, and that everything will be OK, on an even broader scale than mentioned above. I went for a walk yesterday, I thought it would help to spend some times outside these walls, but it did not. No matter how responsible I try to be, how cheerful I try to make myself, I still feel anxious. I start university very, very soon.

Friday, 13/09/13 22.51

Today I had a shower for the first time in two weeks. The contractor came today and it was fairly awkward, but I have a shower now. I could wash my hair properly, and shave. The contractor came just in time too, as my sister comes round over the weekend. I am rather looking forward to that. I think it will help with my general bad mood right now.

And yes, I know this entry is strange – but my internet is limited and for various reasons, comes and goes. I wrote this thing in parts, and decided to leave it as its seperate parts.

Catch Me

the house
long tunnel
Little house containing one obvious passageway and a hidden entrance
One of the Exit/Entrances to the little house
Looking out from the watch tower
More tunnels
Chinese Gardens
Topiary
Reflection

As mentioned in the previous post, I went with my family to some gardens last week – Biddulph Grange Garden to be specific. The weather was bright and sunny which made it perfect for this sort of excursion. We ended up spending a few hours there as though these gardens are fairly small they are built in a maze like manner, with no sign posts and plenty of tunnels and cleverly hidden entrances. You basically get given a very basic map, then you are on your own trying to find your way around. That is how the gardens were designed, the map tells you. “We want you to experience the spirit of surprise and exploration”, it tells you. Well, my sister and I were certainly wandering around in circles before we finally discovered the entrances and passageways that would take us to where we wanted to be. (My aunt and my mother had long given up and gone for lunch) Along the way we bumped into another couple who were also hopelessly wondering around trying to find the bowling green, to little success. It really was frustrating, but strangely fun. You could not help but feel accomplished every time you stumbled upon a cleverly concealed entrance, every time you then managed to uncover a new section, and of course, once you’d finally managed to see everything (minus the bowling green. We really could not figure out where to go for that, either.)

“This plane that flies in the sky, that twirls the wind, that walks in the clouds, has taken off but”

→ A couple of months ago I gave up chocolate. With that, I finally became completely dairy free. And I’m surprised at how well I am coping. It helps that the supermarket we go to has an impressive range of ingredients I thought I’d never be able to get hold of easily – vegetable shortening, dairy free margarine, soya yoghurts, xanthum gum, arrowroot powder and most types of alternative milks are all there. I mean, we’re hardly in a large city. Just a town in the countryside. So its really quite good. Of course, having a kitchen helps too. Yes, there are cravings. But they are feint, usually only when I’m in the supermarket and I am reminded of all the things I cannot have. On a day to day basis I am coping and even enjoying this. Chocolate is another matter – I miss it dearly but chocolate biscuits and rich hot chocolate do take the edge off. Really, its not too difficult when you don’t have to worry about contamination or “may contain traces of” I cook a lot for myself, because I have to, and I am putting a lot more thought into my food because of that. My bread baking is coming along nicely (I contacted my grand mother and she gave me a wonderful whole wheat recipe, which I make one week, then the next I make white bread which is the one I am struggling with but definitely getting better at) Soon I’ll be getting a food processor so I’ll start up making soups, pasta sauces and nut butters. I am, perhaps, having a little bit of fun with this. Not seeing any health benefits yet, but hopefully in a little while. I do think the real challenge is still to come though, and that is how to be dairy free whilst at university. I admit to being slightly worried about that. I need to start learning how to make meal plans to make sure I don’t waste money shopping, or time, and get good always dairy-free food in me despite having little time. I need to figure out some sort of way of not letting stress cause me to relapse into eating chocolate. But that comes later. For now, its going unexpectedly well.

→ I bought some cookbooks to guide me along this dairy free thing. The first one was Go Dairy Free by Alisa Fleming which is an excellent information book and also has some good recipes focused on substitutes to handle cravings and recipes to get nutrients that you would otherwise get from milk. It’s a great information book and I have enjoyed some of the recipes but unfortunately it is very US centric. Thankfully I stumbled upon the The Intolerant Gourmet by Pippa Kendrick. I don’t usually buy UK recipe books as I am not a fan of the UK measurement system- preferring things in cups and spoons- but in this case I needed a book that used UK ingredients which overrode that. The book is a light hardcover and inside it is laid out clearly with beautiful photos and typography. I find it strange how its sectioned in seasons instead of in more traditional breakfast, dinner type labels but the index and the contents means its not too difficult to find what you are looking for. The recipes themselves look very tasty and use very accessible ingredients, although I wish there were more veggie ones. Nonetheless, I am eager to try what I can. Already I tried the pancakes the other day and they were delicious- my sister and I made our own variation by adding back in the egg, using gluten flour and adding in cinnamon and mixed spice. Once cooked, we stacked them up and poured syrup over them then dug in. It was so much fun.

→ On the subject of cook books, I was in a charity shop the other day scanning the books available when a slim volume entitled “our traditional cooking” caught my eye. I nearly skimmed past it but I was too curious as to what cooking it was referring to and bent down to pick it up. Flicking through the pages I found myself facing a recipe for “melk tart” I had, in this random charity shop in the UK, managed to find a traditional South African cookbook. Its a fantastic little book filled with all kinds of recipes, a lot of which have little anecdotes about where they came from. (One section mentioned riding an ostrich and visiting the caves in oudtshoorn- which brought up memories of when as a little girl we did exactly that!) I rather enjoyed reading about how to prepare ostrich eggs and other such things. Not all of it is entirely out of place in the modern world though. I shall be making the banana bread using this book soon and am hoping it turns out well! I am also drawn to putu (I had some sort of mealie meal based porridge drizzled with syrup for breakfast on the game lodge in Zimbabwe and it was divine. I think it may have been putu.) and koeksisters (despite how difficult they look to make.) I must have read through this little book several times since I got it, always picking up new things from it. It’s an utterly fascinating book and I am so glad I picked it up.

I sincerely wish its prequel was not only available on amazon for around £90. O_o

→ My Aunt from South Africa has been with us a week now and there are good moments and bad moments. Thus far she’s mostly being spending time with my mother, her sister, or relaxing around the home, which is nice. We have gone out a few times- we went to some gardens, did some shopping followed by a visit to a local ice cream farm (I had fruit ice of course, but it tasted exactly like ice cream. so. good.) On Sunday we went to pick up my fathers friend from the airport, who is also visiting from South Africa for various reasons, and then we went to check out the RHS flower show, which was stupidly expensive but good fun. The weather has been brilliant for my Aunt, but on Sunday it turned temperamental and we ended up huddled under a marquee waiting for a massive storm to pass. Even that was fun.

But: for every easy going moment, where we just talk and relax and everything is fine, there are also arguments and tension. My Aunt has a temper to match my mother, and she is not afraid of expressing her opinions when maybe they aren’t wanted, because it comes across as passing judgement on our family which I don’t think it is her place too. This has caused some difficultly, especially with my sister. Its not unusual listening to arguments in this house, but it feels slightly sad that we see her so little, and when she is here we argue. I guess that’s family though? I do admit it is a little stifling at home for me now, but then this is probably more to do for the fact that I am not entirely enjoying being home since I came back from Malaysia. I am frustrated, struggling to fit myself into this place where I don’t feel I fit any more, struggling to follow the rules of the house when I have my own ways of doing things (mostly regarding chores and food and all those little things) I move out to my own place at the end of August and cannot wait. I think it may be unfair to blame it entirely on my family of course – I am introverted so can deal with people a certain amount, but I need my own space to retreat to at the end of the day. On saying that, university starts in just two months, and that is not something I want to happen any sooner. I am, like always, conflicted as to how quickly time is passing.

Surprise

On Tuesday it was my 21st birthday. My sister had been teasing me for about a month by telling me about taking me out somewhere, but not telling me where. She had good fun joking around telling me she was taking me to Cadbury’s world (remember, I’m dairy free) and then afterwards that she was taking me raving.

So. I woke up early on Tuesday and got ready with very little idea of what to expect, and still despite my pleading my sister kept our destination to herself. We set off on the motorway, me paying close attention to the signs, wondering where we turning off. As we got further and further from home the signs began to narrow down to one place – Hull.

We stopped at the services for lunch and I thought about it and eventually asked my sister “We’re not going to Hull are we?”

My sister laughed and said yes.

I hoped she was joking around again but… it did not seem like a joke this time. “We’re seriosuly going to Hull?!”

No offense to Hull, but I had no idea what was there to do. I imagined it a grim, industrial sort of place with little of worth to tourists. I was very nervous. I spotted a sign for the turnoff for York and hoped…but no…we continued on and indeed I found myself in Hull. In the bright sunlight it did not seem as bad as I imagined but I still was not certain what we’d have driven all the way there for. Of course, now certain that was our destination I paid even more attention to the signs, especially the brown tourist ones, but still I wasn’t sure where we were going until my sister slapped her hand over my face and told me not to look. I’d just seen a sign for someplace called “the deep” with a fish next to it, and after being punched in the face for it I was fairly certain that was where we were going. My sister was not aware I knew though, and quickly told me to close my eyes. “I’m scared of the dark!” I cried. “Well avert your eyes then.” I diligently stared at a little hole in my tights until my sister said I could look. We had indeed arrived at “the deep” which was an aquarium or as my sister declared proudly a “sub aquarium”. “What on earth is a sub aquarium?” I asked her, intrigued. “I have no idea. Maybe they’ve built it under water?”

I still have no idea, but regardless it was good fun. It was quite a small one, compared to the grand sized of the ones in Japan and there was initially a plague of loud school children with little spacial awareness, but it eventually got quieter and they had a huge 10m tank so as you worked your way down the aquarium (yes, you start at the top floor and wind down- maybe that’s why it’s a sub aquarium?) you would eventually land up right at the bottom of the tank, where you could either take the elevator through it back to the top, or the stairs. My sister and I instead took the elevator up, and then down again, and then went up the stairs. It was good fun. Another cool display, separate from this huge tank, was one where they’d covered it with a blackout curtain which you had to peek behind, to see the flashing lights of some deep sea creature. It was a little scary, being afraid of the dark, but quite unique. Of course there was the required clown fish (nemos!!) and jelly fish and what not but it was still very, very nice.

We left the aquarium and spent some time in the gift shop, amused at all the unrelated souvenirs you could buy (there were quite a few dinosaur and big cat things and just… lots of things that weren’t fish. or that were fish/sea animals that didn’t even exist in the aquarium.) Then we left and I did not know what was coming next, and I asked but of course my sister was having far too much fun keeping me in the dark and would not say. At least she let me know that we were sctually going somewhere next. We drove away from Hull, and I was probably a little relieved as I was not certain what else we could have done there. I once again played the look at the signs and wonder game, and was certain we were stopping at Leeds, but we passed it and it then became clear that we would be going to Manchester. I was very certain and very hopeful that by how late it was that we were heading for food, but without my sister confirming anything I had no idea. By that point I was grumpy and fed up with my sisters game of secrecy. I just wanted to know what was happening! My sister was still too amused at my frustration to tell me. We arrived in Manchester and I trailed after my sister towards the unknown place, then in the certain knowledge we were meeting with our parents. Indeed, we met our parents at a fancy Thai restaurant where we would have supper. The food was delicious, but the portions sizes were crazy. The starter was the size of a main meal, and as such I could not finish my main meal. I felt super bad as it was very expensive. I admit, I do wish we’d gone somewhere more casual. I’m not a big fan of formal, expensive places- I always feel awkward and out of place, and very conscious of the cost. I usually cannot manage restaurant portions and that’s fine when it’s reasonably priced, but once you start getting into pricier food you just feel guilty.

Anyway, it was nice and I went home very full and happy with my day, although I do wish my sister had kept me more informed of what was going on. I’m not a big fan of surprises. (That’s why my sister loves surprising me… typical. :/)

Since then…nothing has been happening. Being 21 is no different than being 20.
My aunt from South Africa is coming to stay with us for a week starting tomorrow afternoon though which I’m quite nervous about. I hope it’s going to be a good week with her.

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