"What is my purpose in life?", "Why do I even bother to go on?", "Where is the fucking cake?" and other philosophical questions I often ask myself

So, I'm a bit depressed right now. I'm not sure if it is because I failed my last exam to the extent that I truly believe that if I had thrown up on the exam paper, I would have gotten at least 5 points more than if I hadn't thrown up on it. However, for some reason I'm not sure if I want my academic attempts to be lined with small, non-digested pieces of cookie dough and leftover pizza. I know, I demand too high standards of myself.
Add to the misery that I have been sick for about two or three weeks now, mainly spending my time with watching Black Books over and over again and discovering that I am awesome at multi-tasking - I manage to do the dishes and hate myself at the same time. Such a time-saver, I'll tell you that. No one pulls off emptying the cat litter box and simultaneously criticizing their looks, intellect and personality as I do. I should write a book aimed at busy women, some sort of how-to guide with suggestions on how to fit a daily hating yourself session into any busy lifestyle. Sort of a "You can have the cake and shit on it as well" situation.

Well, I'm going to go on being bitter for a while, reading my new Bertrand Russell book about how to lose a god in ten days or something like that. Since I have been an raging atheist since the tender age of ten, I tend to distance myself from people who claim that God is constantly watching over them. I just know that if there for some reason is a deity, and if he is watching over my life, he would be just like one of the loud teenage girls in cinemas watching a scary movie, going "OH NO DON'T GO IN THERE, THE MURDERER IS STANDING BEHIND THE DOOR!!!!", but probably more "OH NO DON'T EAT THAT ENTIRE CAKE, YOU WILL SPEND ALL YOUR DAY FARTING BECAUSE YOU THINK THAT YOU HAVE A REBELLIOUS FUCK-ALL ATTITUDE FOR NEGLECTING YOUR LACTOSE INTOLERANCE!"   And then God would watch as life killed me with a steak-knife, throw popcorn at the screen and text constantly with his BFF.

Now, you'll have to excuse me, as I have to go and bribe my cat with salmon in exchange for love.

                                                It is important to stay positive.

The city that never sleeps (but still won't hesitate to pass out drunk in your shower)

As I earlier mentioned, I went to New York for the first time a couple of weeks ago with my parents and my younger brother, and despite my aversion to flying managed to arrive safely without too many panic attacks on the plane (Hey, we all know that "Place your seat in the upright position" is an obvious code for "We are about to crash and die die DIE".) I did however manage to get blatantly drunk on Kahlua and six thousands cups of plane coffee in order to calm myself down, so I arrived at Newark a happy drunk. From what I can recall, I watched the same episode of Parks and recreation four times and tried to steal desserts from other passengers. Yes, I am THAT classy. We then took a cab to the hotel, situated in Midtown, and after gawking at the by-passing actor Hugh Jackman and realizing that America really is the land of possibilites (possibilites to get a heart attack) we got acquainted with the neighbourhood around the someone hectic Times Square and received strict orders from the hotel manager not to have any crazy parties in the hotel room, which I frankly thought was kind of unfair - you really can't have a proper family vacation with your family without passing out drunk on top of a hooker in a hotel room! What would we otherwise put in the family christmas letter?

                                                             Times Square

                                                                     Central Park

                                                              Where I spent most of my trip

                Come on people, you can see the "Made in China" labels! Evolution, it's a passing trend,      just like democracy and white jeans. 

                                                 Fell in love with this cow.

                  Went to an absinthe-bar in hipstery Williamsburg, ate oysters and found a friend. (Not alcohol  this time. That was a friendship bracelet gone to waste.

                                                             Was thrown out of Ladurée.

                                                                 

                                                             Visited West Village

Met the presidential candidate of the Republican party

                                                             

                                                           Went to Obscura and fell in love with Evan and Mike - two of the most interesting, kind and well read people I have ever met. I wish I could have bought them. Hey, they have sold weirder things in the shop. 

                                                            Wanted to buy everything, but US customs went all buzz kill on me and prohibited me from bringing pure 1950's ether onto the plane. YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM!!

                                                              Saw God. God swears a lot. 

And that's pretty much it. To sum things up, I fell in love with New York, but as I landed in the middle of the whole Herman Cain sex scandal I can only say that my perception of American politics are as pessimistic as before. As I was jet lagged I woke up earlier than everyone else and decided to walk the streets, and witnesses the hobo raid that takes place every morning, when the police removes all homeless people from the fancier streets so people won't have their shopping experience tainted by reality. It made me sick, how one side of Manhattan was filled with special fast food restaurants for people's pets, and that another showed signs of poverty, abuse and inequality. And yet, politicians depicts the situation as taken care of by the benevolent supermen called police men, just trying to relieve the rich from the burden of seeing the less fortunate suffer. Sure, my country's welfare system isn't always functioning as properly as I would like it to, but after spending only a week in the United States, I realized that their welfare system is just like a superman; but instead of arriving in time, it arrives three hours after you needed help, and then shoots you in the foot.

Phlegm and the city

I'm back from New York. I am also very sick. This might be related to me living on donuts for a week, so my immune system is probable as resistant as putting a gang of crying babies in the front line of an army. That scenario would however make the film 300 MUCH funnier. I will tell more about the trip as soon as I'm well again, right now my throat hurts so much that I can't speak, and the only sign language I know are the signs for menstruation and rabbit. Everyday conversation, that is. So for the next few days, I am confined to my room with a computer and a box of tissues. That sounded very wrong. Anyway, the only thing I can spend my time with is to sit by the window, watching the rain pour down and listen to love songs, but as there are a few obstacles (1. It is not raining 2. My view of romantic music is Rage against the machine) I am condemned to staring dreamily into my cat's anus while he tries to reach the piece of cat food on his foot. I should write love novels.

Today's funfact: The ancient Greeks believed that the vagina was an inverted penis, and if women ran, it could fall out. If that isn't an argument against jogging, I don't know what is.

Fuck yeah nihilism

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