Well, New Year's Eve did not go entirely according to plan.
Most of it did, though, and the majority of the food was yummy, and I'm good with that. It was the cake, though. You know, the thing I'm fairly certain I can do without thinking too hard: baking.
I love to bake. How I managed to make a cake-thingy that not only weight a ton (or is that tonne), it had a tasty crust and was rubbery on the inside.
I felt it still tasted good, but it was so heavy. And strange.
Ah well, life goes on, right?
I've also come to the conclusion that my day to day life has become rather dull. Now, don't get me wrong - Scotland still rocks, and when I'm doing stuff (York, museums, tours, ghost hunts, going out with friends, seeing movies and remember that Tilda Swinton is my master now), I'm really enjoying them. It's just that when I'm done doing something... I'm bored. Nothing's really engaging my mind.
I need a hobby.
Other than buying more books. (How did I go from coming across with three paperbacks to having an overflowing bookshelf? I have *no idea*.)
So, yeah, there's some clubs meeting up this week that I might go out to, or maybe I'll take up some sort of class, or hell, maybe I'll start *knitting*. Just something that engages me when I'm not going out of my way to be engaged, if that makes sense.