Now that my mom’s left my home, perhaps I should resume writing here again.

I just beat the hardest level of Elite Beat Agents on the highest difficulty level. I believe I can now get back to the rest of my life.

My mom will be here tomorrow, but my home is still not in a presentable state. Gah!

A nightlong birthday party and a friend’s choir performance earlier today have ensured I have only slept 3 hours in the past couple of days.

The old lady syndrome

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I don’t know what I did to cause it—I sure as hell don’t lift heavy things—but I seem to have thrown my back. It’s been hurting like hell ever since I woke up last morning, and I’m having a hard time moving around. Or sitting. Or even lying down.

This wouldn’t be so bad if I had nowhere to be, but I’ve had a lot of itty-bitty things to take care of lately—like spending much of last morning in queues at the neighbouring U.S. embassy. Actually, it really wasn’t all that bad, it took less than a couple of hours in total—my back just made it seem a lot longer.

I was there applying for a visa to enter the States. I plan on spending some time at M.I.T. next month and later attending a cousin’s wedding in Georgia (I think). I’m pleased to report that there weren’t any problems or unpleasantries with the visa proceedings, and my travel plans are still on.

While I am in life news mode, I’d also like to report that my mom will be here in a couple of weeks, She plans on spending a few weeks in my home before heading off to the U.S. (separately, we’ll rejoin after my M.I.T. stint) to partake in the festivities of the aforementioned wedding. I need to make my home a tad more habitable (like buying a few chairs!) before she gets here, and figure out fun things to show her, but that’s not the direction I want to take this tale.

I gingerly broached the subject of her needing to draw as much enjoyment from this wedding as she could—for she wasn’t going to experience any of it at her own son’s. I’m nearly certain I’m not having a wedding wedding even if I ever were to get married, and she should have her fill of festivities elsewhere. At this point, I was expecting a disappointed tone on the other end of the phone, or at least a solemn talking-to—but nothing. Instead, she nonchalantly goes, “Oh, but I’ve always known that. You’ve been hinting ever since you were four that you felt weddings were a waste of time and money. And I tend to agree with you.”

I don’t know why people don’t believe me when I tell them I’ve always felt jaded and old.

Sticking a “Please don’t spam me” sign on my mailbox actually works in this part of the world. I’d never have figured it’d be that simple.

If I spent a third of the time learning a real instrument as I did mastering Elite Beat Agents, my life would be substantially better.

I just received an e-mail from my brother which seemed quite Nigerian-scammy on first glance.

Considering the barber dude only knew five words of English and I only five of Norsk, I’d say my new haircut wasn’t a complete disaster.

Either this is some sort of police exercise gone nuts, or my cutesy-looking neighbourhood houses a dastardly fiend.

If something can’t be described by a continuous field theory, it’s not really a science. I’m looking at you “string theory.”

This is just silly. I can’t believe today is a holiday as well! Is the “five weeks” I’m supposed to get off in addition to all of this?

The only cool thing about paying income taxes in more than one country is large tax refunds in more than one country!