A scattering of thoughts

For the past two and a half weeks or so, I've been housesitting. Aside from the obvious getting used to sleeping in someone else's bed, how-their-kitchen-works thing, it's been pretty good! I think though, what I'm going to miss the most is the clothes dryer. I wish I had something more profound to offer; maybe how now I'm more accustomed to thinking about the nature of independence, or that I've discovered what I talk to myself about when no one else is around. But no, it's definitely the dryer. What I've come to realise, is that when you put your pyjamas in to the dryer for maybe 10 minutes, the feeling when you put them on is literally like a whole-body hug from a best friend who you haven't seen in ages (pretty specific example, I know...). It's almost inappropriate. I think it's safe to say that I have well and truly abused this appliance during my stay here... might have to start saving to get one of my own!



In other thoughts... I think that I've decided that nothing beats a really good hug. And this carries on from the feeling of having your pyjamas in the dryer (and incidentally, not much tops a hug from a friend you haven't seen in ages). I love them. I live for them. I've got a couple of friends who I honestly think could compete in the World Hugging Championships, if there were such a thing. A truly good hug feels like love though; it feels like the giver really means it. My friend Patt gives the hardcore, bone-crushing hugs that are halfway between laughing and crying. And my other friend Scott pretty much picks you off the ground. My brother's not too bad either, he just has a knack for picking the worst possible times (as I think is a God-given gift to most younger brothers, in terms of everything). A good hug should be given freely, and should communicate friendship and love. And romantic hugs are something else entirely. I've managed to write a fair bit on this topic... hmmm. I must be some kind of hug slut. I should look at this.


Finally, I've decided that I can never watch the movie The Notebook in the company of other people. You know the one... from 2004, with Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams, and based on the book by Nicholas Sparkes. Anyway, it's one of my favourite films, and I watch it every couple of months or so, and every single time, I cry in the final scenes. Like clockwork. And I've decided that it's just too embarrassing to share with people. Which is a pity, because I can think of a couple of people with whom I'd like to watch it, but I guess I'll just have to lend them the DVD. It's a public service really... what if they cry too? I don't think that sitting on a couch and blubbering over fictional characters is the best way to bond.