I have an iPhone now. Sorta. It’s on loan from a friend until I get my own. What this means, practically, is that Words with Friends is now THE ONLY THING I DO. I’ve been playing it for maybe 36 hours, and it’s already made me late for work twice. Last night I burned my baking and then almost fell off a treadmill in the course of feeding my fixation. But I did win my first game. SUCK IT, Random Stranger.
When I say I’m not that competitive, I’m feeding you a pack of lies. I’m SO competitive that I usually avoid competing, for fear of becoming CONSUMED BY WINNING. Or, more accurately, by NOT LOSING. Which I now am. I just made a foolish tactical error in one of my games, and in another my ass is getting kicked all over the board (SERIOUSLY, ÉMIGRÉ? YOU WHORE!), which means my afternoon has essentially been reduced to grinding my teeth and staring holes in my phone.
But it’s almost Christmas, so I’m okay with that.
Summer is creeping in and out. It rains endlessly but it’s warm. Weird Wellington weather — still and sticky one minute, sideways rain the next. The sun sneaks out and the populace swarm the streets and bars. Last weekend I walked to the beach and waded in. The water was freezing and choked with seaweed, but the beach was full of people. I watched the waves creep over my knees and the clouds scud helplessly across the sky, and felt happy. My heart felt happy.
My heart IS happy.
I love this city. I love my new house, perched on the side of a hill. I love the precarious staircases down and the view out over the harbour. I love walking to work. I love wine, and sushi, and online freaking Scrabble, and the way I laughed until I cried last Tuesday night over something completely silly, sitting outside and watching the sun sink with good friends and hungry mosquitoes. I love that I have a new job. I love Christmas and New Year and plans to head both North and South in January.
I love the nameless, gorgeous kitten I’m adopting next month.
I love my characters and I love their story. I love my mythology. I MADE THAT SHIT UP, you guys! That’s CRAZY.
Life is good. Merry Christmas.
(Except Ang. Ang just played ‘schmooze’, and is therefore STILL A WHORE.)