I would like to preface by saying I have a hangover. This hangover seems to have a life of it's own, this is a vile beast of a hangover, haven't had one this bad in a while. But there was no morning after puking, which in the few times it has happened, I've found very alarming. I mean shit, it cannot be a good sign if you actually couldn't sleep it off. Perhaps my liver is actually trying to up and run away. I'm not telling you this for sympathy's sake, I'm telling you so that if I seem particularly rotten today, it's because everything is colored by a slightly green, nauseous, vaguely fuzzy patina.

There's days I really hate living here. And yes, I do understand that no matter where in the world I am, there will be days that I hate living there, even the far greener pastures of Newfoundland. Please to tell dear Help, why so bitter? Well I'll tell you. Aside from the awful bureaucratic frenzy that has been the start of my northern academic career, I've had a pretty heavy case of south-sickness these last few days. Not home-sickness as such, it's defiantly a south thing. I can't tell you what I would give to be able to go to a bookstore. Have a latte. I went looking for some kind of treat for myself yesterday, as I was really needing a little retail therapy, and the two stores that are available didn't offer any relief. I went home empty handed. Do you know how nice it would be to be able to buy a t-shirt, just because? So take delight in these things, my friends who live in the south.  Think about how lucky you are to be able to go and sit under a tree.

Case in point: there are basically four restaurants in this fair city. Four that offer sit down, people will bring you food, service. There are other options, sort of, but that's not what we're talking about today. I have a group of friends, and generally once a week, we get together for lunch at one of these establishments. It's really nice for us, it's a cool oasis where none of us (meaning me) have to cook. Of the four restaurants, there is one we cannot visit because it is the former employer of one of the group. We are down to three. The one place we visit the most often has typically laughable service, but it is again something that one becomes accustomed to in the north. We overlook. We don't complain. We keep going back. But today dear readers, even the usual craptastic service, was above and beyond. They outdid themselves this day, and everyone in the group left roaring mad. I won't get into the major details, cause really who cares besides us, but I will say this - everyone was late for work. I had to miss an entire orientation event because they took so long getting it together. And the bit that really galls me is that we all had to pay FULL PRICE to have them fuck up our day. If we were in the south, this restaurant would be out of business. If this were the south, these managers who were afraid to look any of us in the eye, would be kissing our asses so we didn't tell everyone and their sister of our ordeal. There would be free dessert. And that is another reason why I have this deep seated south-sickness. They treat us poorly, offer "two slices of deep fried awful (so says my good friend Chris)", and give us food that is ok at best. They do this because they can. What are our alternatives? We are running out of restaurants. Try, my southern friends, to wrap your head around the notion that there are TWO PLACES you can go. Scary isn't it?

I realise that there are many things wrong with the world, that there is hunger and strife and Miley Cyrus assaulting the eardrums of our fragile youth, and so my grievance with exceptionally poor service my seem a tad shallow, but the day to day  living in the north is never easy, and so a life stripped of simple pleasures is a very frightening prospect.

But enough. There have been good bits from these last few days as well. Last night was my last time hosting karaoke after a 2 year run, and most everyone I've ever known and loved in this city came out for the final showdown. I sang my ass off, shook it like I owned it, and of course got silly drunk.

Several people who's opinion I hold very dear told me that they love my blog, and send it on to their friends. I've had almost 500 views of this here blog in the scant week that I've been doing it. I only figured out how to check the stats yesterday, and I was completely boggled. So for that, thank you.

My choir had it's first rehearsal of the season last night, and I'm still high. It was such a joy, we all left walkin on sunshine.

I got many sweet kisses today. I am a lucky girl indeed.

So today's slice of deep fried awesome: www.fmylife.com. Whatever kind of bad day you've had, these poor mo-fo's have had it much worse, promise. These are little tales, and they are all so mortifying, you start to feel good about yourself, cause while lunch may have been shitty, and there's no place to buy books or shoes, at least no one pissed on your pillow and stole your grandmother. Silver lining right?

I hope today is the best day of your life. And I hope tomorrow is better.

Love,
The Help