Blown Away

My love has returned in full, thrilling force, so needless to say, my mind is - almost rather literally - scattered all over the Western Cape.

P.S. In the mean time: hey, Sea Monkey*? I'm not ignoring the meme of the decade, promise. I'm just waiting for my mind to become whole again. Okay, so that might be a futile exercise. I suppose my only excuse is that I'm merely procrastinating it. Along with everything else. Including writing YOU** a reply. (And yes, my laziness has just jumped to record levels. I mean, who else uses their blog as a kind of secondary device to send messages? And I'm not even talking cryptic or deep, symbolic messages. Alas, I'm still way too lazy for that!)

P.P.S. Ever since last Wednesday morning South African time - when the outcome of the US election was finally called - I've been incessantly humming the very first song I've ever written. Well, if we HAVE to get all technical about it, I shamelessly stole the melody from someone else. And we use the term 'written' a bit loosely when it comes to the lyrics too, because I didn't actually even come up with anything other than a title. Which also happens to conveniently double as the first line of the chorus. It goes thusly (and oh, yes, the glorious irony and politics behind the state used in the song which I based it on isn't lost on me! In fact, I see it as sweet, sweet revenge for the fact that the über conservative woman who almost became my monster-in-law lives there): Sweet Home of Obama!

You have to admit, it has an extremely nice ring to it! Except when I sing it. Loudly. And repeatedly. And off-key.

* and ** I have some kind of a cheek to assume that they'll even read this! Oh well, blame the returned love and the subsequently scattered mind.