Pictures pictures pictures.

I have pictures everywhere as I'm attempting to make a scrapbook.

And I'm relapsing. I miss the Commons sooooo much that I cried and now I have a headache.

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I'm looking at old pictures on our computer. I used to have really long hair. That's because getting your hair cut in Edinburgh was expensive. Not related, but when I left there I threw out a lot of clothing. Specifically, there is a blue shirt that I really miss. WHY DID I NOT TAKE IT WITH ME??!! Probably because I wore it all the time and it was getting soooo fuzzy, not to mention the 20-kg weight limit. But why? Sad. And I'm wearing these random mitts in France and I have no idea whose they are. Were they mine? Did I borrow them from Keri?

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Okay, I just remembered that I'm quite sure they ARE mine. I bought them at Internationale because I didn't have any mitts. I also almost lost them quite a bit. If it weren't for strangers tapping me on shoulders and me running back to the toilet minutes before a flight I would have had some rather cold hands by the time I left Finland! (Speaking of Finald, I have a fantastic photo of Patrick and I eating the most stupid backpackers supper EVER. I have a box of cereal, and he has a PICKLE, among other things. Hee hee...!) I did eventually lose a mitt, but I'll have to continue looking through pictures to determine when.

You know, I was soooo sad earlier but after looking at the THOUSANDS of pictures I have taken the past few years I really have no reason to be sad. Honestly, I think I had more fun these past few years than some people have in their whole lives. So how on Earth can I be sad?! Yes, I don't get to see people as much as I would like to, I have no idea when I'll see the majority of my friends again (come visit "The Gentle Island" please!) but I'm lucky to have met them. I've been to numerous fabulous places, had the job that I dreamed of since I was eleven-years old, have a brilliant family, etc. Despite throwing out my fabulous blue shirt, at least I got my 7GBP out of it.

So this wasn't supposed to be a birthday post, but the clock is inching towards 1:00am on December 8th and I'm cheering up. I survived another year, and somehow, despite living at the Commons for thirteen months, my liver still functions. THAT is something to be proud of! I've also managed to have a great tan through most of it, despite being stuck in Scotland's rainiest summer on record ;)

On my happy note, I think I'll go to bed. Tomorrow night, I think I need an adventure. Looking at my pictures, I had lots of random adventures that don't happen unless you are willing to "put yourself out there". Hard sometimes, but I haven't had a REAL adventure in Charlottetown yet and I know there is one out there waiting for me, waiting to wish me a Happy Birthday and welcome me "home".

Happy 24th Birthday!