As you might have noticed, there's a lot of pictures here lately. Pictures are good when you don't have the energy, the willpower or the guts to carry out the thinking-part of the blogging process.

I'm at school now. First class, French, cancelled. I forgot to check with the bitches, since I left after lunch, but on the other hand, Kajsa called me asking about which CD's are good for burning at like 5 and she didn't say anything about French. Thus, I have slept 4 hours, due to late night chatting with Ian and consequently, not-on-time writing of (overdue) English homework.

It's so hard to tell if anyone really likes anyone at this stage, and I guess that's what's called flirting. (I really sound like that catholic school girl I am.) Sometimes I love it and sometimes I hate it, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart. As soon as I see a blond man anywhere I start thinking OMFG it's Ian, and OMFG what's he doing in Malmö and OMFG will he say hi but inly for a split second because then I realize that it's not him.

Who's Ian, you might ask yourself? Well. Ian is the very nice guy I met in Gothenburg, a couple of weeks ago. Indeed, he is blond, and he's my age (18), but he graduated one year early from high school. Thus, he is now a student at Chalmers university of technology. Well, he hasn't been in school for a week, but he's enrolled there. Some kind of preparatory year, studying marth and physics. Fascinating, I know. (Grrblt, you're not allowed to make contact with this man if you would by any chance recognize him.) He wind surfs a lot and he's cool. Okay.

So, we've been chatting, calling each other and text messaging and I'm sorry to say it, but this is the most serious, romantic relationship I've ever had with a boy. Creepy? Yes. Sad? Very much so. But still, it's undeniably true. And by relationship, I do not mean any kind of explicit, mutual agreement or declaration of interest, but merely a relation one has to another person. Kind of like you have a relationship to your neighbor, your mailman, or your dog.

I was off men, you say? Yeah, I know. I haven't abandoned my ideals or anything like that, but the whole off-men thing was meant as a period of chilling off, a means of getting another perspective and a way of sort of, occupying myself while not occuppying myself, ultimately hoping to be surprised by omfg the greatezt love of my life.

People always say it's going to come when you least expect it. Well, I'm sad to say that I'll never lose hope of finding the person of my dreams tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. Does that mean I'm always expecting it? And does, that, in turn, mean that I'll never relax and actually find Prince Charming? Jaysus.