Being in love. How does it happen. And why. And how is it possible that some people are always in love, and some people (me) rarely? Is there some sort of button in my brain I should be switching on? Cause if so, this button must be rotting away somewhere without me knowing.
Parents who tell their children they are dead to them for being gay. Is that a scare tactic or do they actually hate their children that much?
Air-conditioning. Because I have it now and can't figure out why there is still a piece of polystyrene inside of it. Also the word polystyrene. I prefer the Dutch word, piepschuim (peepfoam).
Why I got upset about a boy asking me to buy him a drink yesterday. He didn't really ask actually, he hinted at it in a semi obvious way. I thought this wouldn't have bothered me so much, since I do believe in gender equality and all that. Sort of. I guess my feministic tendencies don't expand that far. There is something to be said for gentlemanly behaviour. The boy in question owned a miniature husky, called Biggie, whose face he had tattooed on his chest. I should have known.
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