hopelandic ♥

The last few days of utter solitude have taught me something very important. When I (hopefully) leave in October, I'm never coming back. I don't care if I have to demonstrate my rights as a squatter, or share a flat with someone who smells of mothballs, because you know what? Living alone rules and I'm a nicer person when I don't have to contend with my impossible mother.

And the ironic thing is, the grinding, tedious chores of which I never usually hear the end become simple and undaunting. Today I cleaned the kitchen! And I washed up, cooked, sorted washing, watered the plants and did some ironing. All of these things became almost enjoyable when blasting a soundtrack my mum would usually call 'mindless durge' or 'suicidal droning' and dancing like an arthritic grandpa. Plus I can sit wrapped in a duvet watching Grey's Anatomy all day, learning how to conjugate Swedish verbs from the subtitles if I so choose (which I invariably do). Life just becomes simpler, quieter and much more enjoyable, so I will try my absolute hardest to make sure I return as seldom as possible.

I know I'm a bit late on the bandwagon, but Sigur Ros are now filling my days quite nicely with their devastatingly beautiful melodies. And everything just sounds better in what has been christened 'Hopelandic', doesn't it?

Finally, I have a vague memory of Sarah Dixon and her mother telling me determinedly in the car once how funny the BBC sit-com 'Miranda' is. I brushed off their comments (Sarah has a very odd sense of humour) but was put in my place when I caught it on iPlayer about six months ago. No, it's not that clever, nor will it win a bundle of awards any time soon, but it is the only thing that can make me cackle like a pantomime baddie, and that's got to be worth something. Anyway, the good news is that the lovely BBC are reshowing series one again. Give it a chance? She's a genuinely funny lady...