Ho freakin' ho.

And so Christmas is over and done with for another year, thank unnamed deity. I know, I know - you can call me a Grinch, but I can’t help it. I don’t really enjoy Christmas anymore, and I don’t even know why. It might just be that I hate this time of year in general; if I had anything to say, we’d be skipping November through February and head straight from autumn to spring. I used to love winter, I really did. I loved the dark and the cold and even the rain, having a reason to stay in and cosy it up on the sofa with candles lit. Now it all just depresses me, and not even the decorations and pretty lights all over town make it all right. I can’t wait until the days are longer again. I want spring. Warmth, green leaves, and light in the mornings when I wake up. I want to go for a run in the afternoon and feel the sun on my face. April, please get here soon.

This Christmas has been particularly miserable since I’ve been ill since the weekend with an awful cold. We celebrated on the 23rd with my uncle, aunt and cousins, and I was sick as a dog with a runny nose, stuffed head and swollen eyes. We celebrated Christmas Eve yesterday at my grandparents’, and at 7 o’clock I was bad enough that I had to go lie down and ended up sleeping for more than three hours. Today I’ve been coughing so hard all day I think I’m going to crack a rib at some point, or at least pass out from a lack of air. Oh, yes, awesome Christmas.

On a positive note, I found out on Monday that I passed all of my exams and now only have the play in January left. Yay! And not only did I pass all the exams, but I got distinctions for all of them, too! Am I allowed to say that I rock?

Bring on spring.

3-2 against Wigan on Saturday. But damn it, why must they make me suffer and try to give me a heart attack with these late comebacks? Wigan was supposed to be that game I could watch easily and enjoy, maybe won by 3-0. It wasn’t supposed to be a game where Liverpool was down 1-2 but eventually managed to turn the whole thing around in the last ten minutes while I had to cover my eyes. They seriously need to take control of the match earlier.

Also, I wish Keane would start showing why he’s on the team.

Oooh.

Canal+ is showing Liverpool-Wigan despite it not being in the tableau! What a nice surprise!

Come on, you Reds. Don’t make me suffer the way you did against Manchester City. Show me you can win without Nando, like you did against United.

No keg! (Too late!)

Last night was the 25th x 4 birthday party in Ystad, and man, did we have a good time.

Looking back at the evening, I realised a few things. One: when I have been drinking it is apparently very difficult for me to be in a picture without making a silly face, which usually means opening my mouth wide enough that you’d think I was trying to break some kind of record. Two: my top was really low-cut. *hides* There was some serious boobage going on at one point. Three: I cannot (and will not!) be held responsible for my so called dancing when the band are playing AC/DC, and especially not Back In Black. And four: Bon Jovi really DOES rock on occasion. *makes horns*

It was a really great night. Food was yummy, band were awesome, and company equally so.

Oh, and on a completely different note, Dawn? Thanks a lot for reminding me about the Slapsong. It’s been on my head nonstop for the past few days, and I can’t just go around singing "You just got slaaaapped!" in public. It’s getting as bad as it was with Where There’s a Whip, There’s a Way.

…

I got a tip last night to watch ‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’. I just did, and I have only one thing to say: full frontal nudity for the win! God, I love Jason Segel.

Newsflash

In the last couple of weeks, I have rediscovered how much work it is having a puppy around. Morris is absolutely adorable, very cuddly and likes to crawl into my lap and fall asleep there, and very funny. He is also the most stubborn little thing you could ever imagine, snaps and yaps at us incessantly every night, tries to eat every damn thing that comes into his field of vision when outside and has very, very sharp teeth, which makes digging stuff out from his mouth ever so slightly unpleasant.

I can't wait for him to stop being a puppy and become a real dog.

Stuff.

Home again from a four-day-weekend in London, which was wonderful. Saw Monty Python’s Spamalot (which, if you didn't know, is sort of a musical version of 'The Holy Grail'), where I had a moment of utter (though quiet) squee when Alan Dale came on stage. I mean, come on! Bradford Meade! Caleb Nichol! Then my squee subsided somewhat, because he wasn’t really that good, but still. And the show was fantastic - I laughed so much my cheeks hurt. The guy playing Patsy was my favourite - he looked eerily like Terry Gilliam, while at the same time being oddly cute. And if there is one thing Terry Gilliam is not, it’s ‘cute’.

Oh, and I am now also the proud owner of a white, fluffy killer rabbit with pointy teeth. This random American dude sat next to me bought one during the interval, and after paying he said, "This one is for you," and gave it to me. I have no idea why, but… Killer rabbit! Yay! It’s awesome, and called Steve. I don't know why, but it fits him.

On a completely different note, only three weeks until the new puppy arrives! I can’t wait. Of course, once it’s here and the initial ‘homigod so CUTE’ has worn off, it’s going to be a tiring summer of getting bitten every time you stick your hand down, and having to run out for a walk in the middle of an important football game. I can just imagine it. Sweden against France, 1-1 two minutes into overtime, and puppy begins looking anxious. And it will inevitably be my turn to go.

I’ve decided that I’m going to work on my Scouse this summer. I want that accent, damn it. I know the basic differences, like /ɜ:/ becoming /e:/, and /ɐ/ becoming /ʊ/ (I love saying /we:d/ and /brʊðə/), but clearly there is so much more and I want to learn it.

Oh, and /k/ becomes /x/, like in the Scotish 'loch'. So, 'look' would be pronounced as /lʊx/. How awesome is that?

Sports blather

So, Liverpool won against Manchester City today. Yay! And Torres was the one who scored, which made me extra happy. I’m so proud of El Niño. Take that, all those who didn’t think he’d make it in the UK.

And my boys seem to have recovered somewhat after losing the Champions League semi-final to Chelsea. Man, that sucked. And the worst part was how happy both my parents were with the result; they’re both Chelsea supporters. The living room was so full of glee (and resentment, on my behalf), you wouldn’t believe.

I actually really love football. It amazes me, but I do. It’s fun to watch, and exciting. True, it's limited to English football and cups, but still.

What handball news there is isn't very exciting. Hammarby won the final against Sävehof, which wasn't completely unexpected considering how superior they've been this season, but it was still a disappointment.
And, here's to hoping that next season, my Lugi will get their act together and reach the standard I know they're really at. Because this season was bloody embarrassing.