Reaching for hairspray

Nothing puts a smile on a little sister’s face like curling her hair for the first time.

Here’s her Flat-Morgan project we did together:

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Larger than life

I am in the Ljubljana airport and I can’t stop smiling – I just wore 4 coats through security.

Last time I flew with EasyJet they publicly humiliated me and I was really nervous to fly with them again. I made Tomaz come to the check in with me because I get really flustered with 2 suitcases, both presumably overweight and secret purses and books stashed amongst me.

I survived their inspection wearing 2 t-shirts, a sports jacket, a blazer, a leather jacket and a winter coat. I would have been wearing another pair of shoes if I had figured out how.

My luggage was 0.5kg overweight but I must have looked charming or nervous enough for them to overlook that.

Talk about optimization.

Under a peaceful sun

I am sitting under the sun in a cafe in Ljubljana. It’s one of the few sincerely sunny days I’ve seen in Slovenia.

I haven’t come up with the words to describe my Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia trip yet, but I will give you a spoiler that it was absolutely incredible.

It’s feeling a bit final here. A coffee under the sun and couple dinners before I make my way back to Canada. I suppose my goal is to make sure that life is fantastic there too – be a little more open to meeting people and remember the value of espresso vs. coffee when it comes to my bladder.

They say the way you spend new years eve is how you will spend the following year.

It must be true because it’s only been 2 weeks since I bailed onto an Amsterdam train and again I have a rather unnecessary step in Croatia to thank for my limp. It was cold enough to run full speed into the dark and I hit the ground so hard that I briefly lost my words and laughter. My knee is cut, bruised and damaged and I wouldn’t mind much if I couldn’t see myself as a crippled old lady thinking “it was this damn ledge by the Adriatic Sea…”

Yeesh, I really feel like I am standing on the ledge of mediocrity. What if I come back to Canada and have nothing to blog about? Perhaps I am more interesting at a distance.