Time to KISS A SWEDE again

I've just realised that my favourite day of the year is rapidly approaching. No matter who you are, or where you live, the INTERNATIONAL KISS A SWEDE DAY should be noted, preferably celebrated.
I'm not entirely sure when this tradition started. I'm guessing a couple of girlfriends dove into a tub of wine one night and decided to give themselves a snog-every-guy-at-the-party justification. I salute them!
It's the 24th April - mark your calendars and go search out a Swede.
I'll be in Happy Valley.

Placidity

I know! I'm just as bored as you guys are! Nothing's happening! Zip. Not a sausage.

Thieving

I've never understood why the Easter Bunny brings eggs. Did he steal them from the Easter Chicken?

Sometimes it takes a lion

I was 16 when I was first exposed to jazz. I had talked my teachers into sending me to a "Weekend for the Environment" course.

There I met a boy, who used to be a Svensson or Andersson or maybe Larsson, but was now Lion-island.

He had a motorbike, he was fabulous, and much older than I was. What can I say!

Lion-island took me out of the student hostel, and with the help of the fake ID I carried, took me into one of the "in-clubs" (for environmentalists) where jazz was the only item on the menu.

Being born cynical, I found Mr Lion-island just as pretentious as he was. I did like the jazz though. I still do!

Very much so.

Many years later, my father and I found jazz a common ground to get the evil stepmother out of the room.

Easter fun

Seldom has the approaching Easter holiday been so welcome. Among the four teachers in my centre 3 are suffering from a cold, 2 are in mourning, 1 is contemplating suicide after a bad break-up, 1 is finding it very difficult to cheer up the rest, 1 has back problems, 1 is tired of living in Hong Kong, 2 are tired of the students.

We are not a very cheerful bunch. 3 days to go.

What to say?

A close friend died tonight. She was hit by a car.

I know because her boyfriend used the "last dialled number" function on her mobile phone.

She rang me yesterday. I wasn't terribly busy but I didn't feel like a chat. I rejected the call. Guess how well I feel right now!

Ssssssseriously?

I think Snakes on a Plane is one of the best movies ever made.
I'm not being sarcastic, I really like it. I watch it every few months crawled up in bed, laughing hysterically, scared witless and amused beyond control.
After each viewing, I carefully check under the duvet cover, under the bed and the dining table. If there are no snakes in sight I turn out the light and go to sleep. Inevitably I then wake up a few hours later, convinced something is crawling in my bed.

I'm not entirely sure why I put myself through this madness time after time. I suppose I quite like that for a few hours I can let go of all rational thought and just behave like a crazy person.
I should add perhaps that I only do this in private.