Among the unfunny crap - which draws me in like a sucker every time even though I *know* that it's never going to be funny, and it's always going to have way more exclamation marks than I approve of - I did find something amusing. It was this list of "men are like..." sayings, and among them was this:

Men are like parking spaces - the good ones are all taken, and the rest are handicapped.

OK, so I don't really agree with it... but it's still funny.

I am really looking forward to being on the snow again. I was really deprived this last season - I only got three days on the snow all winter - so I've kind of reached a point where I need my fix. I picked up our plane tickets yesterday, and we can pick up our new gear (new snow pants for me, new snowboard bag for Daniel) from Rockdale pretty soon. The idea of living at the foot of a mountain in the Alps, with no responsibilities except whose turn it is to look after dinner, or whether there is enough beer in the fridge**, truly warms the cockles of my heart. Snowboard all day, and when you tire yourself out, drink beer and play cards.

** Actually when we were in Austria last year, we didn't bother putting the beer in the fridge. We just left it outside on the balcony, where it was colder anyway. It got so cold one night that one of the beer bottles exploded, leeving a beer-shaped block of ice.

I used to *hate* playing card games. Daniel and Joel knew a fair few card games, but I didn't really grow up with card games like they did. So in essence, I sucked. I lost by miles every time. To be perfectly honest, this was the main reason I hated cards. I don't like being the worst at anything, especially since I was so used to being good at everything I did when I was younger.

I think I am afraid of failure. Or I'm just proud. Either way, I make a lousy student because I don't like people seeing me when I'm still learning something. I would never show my family or friends my half-finished stories when I was little because they weren't perfect - I would only ever show the finished piece, and even then it was with reluctance.

I seem to be very good at getting distracted from the point.

I hated cards because I sucked, but then suddenly one day I was good at cards, and then I liked playing. Because all of a sudden I was whooping arse every time, Lord only knows why or how.

I think I really need to work on this pride of mine. Maybe that's why snowboarding meant so much to me. I've never had to work so hard at *anything* before in my life. It took me three years to finally get the hang of it, to feel comfortable riding in the trees. I was a slow learner, but somehow I was determined to get good, and my hard work paid off. I gave myself concussion, I got bruises, I hurt myself more than once, but I just kept coming back for more. I guess that's what love is, whether it's for people or things or just experiences. You'll probably get yourself hurt, but if you forgive, and go back, then it's love.

I forgave the mountain when it spat me off the same damn T-bar, time and time again, while my friends were off riding the fun stuff. I forgave the snow for being hard-packed and bruising my arse when I fell over. I forgave the mountain for having an invisible rut that threw me into the air and winded me upon landing. I forgave the mountain for knocking me unconscious in Canada. I forgave it for that time I fell off a ten-foot drop with an apparently highly entertaining squeak. I forgave it for the countless times that I had to unstrap and *walk*. I forgave it for all those times I had huge, cartwheeling falls in front of large crowds of people. For all the humiliation it caused me.

Now if that ain't love, I don't know what is.

Sydney seems to have a serious cockroach problem at the moment. Everyone I know has said that there are cockroaches in their home. We've been getting these enormous black ones, the bush cockroaches. They're about - now hang on while I look at how far apart I'm holding my fingers here - I'd say about 1.5 inches long. We've started laying baits for them, and so far it seems to be working because each day I'm finding a couple of very large, very dead cockroaches on the carpet or in the laundry. Generally I'm all about catching the offending insect or spider (even terrifying ones like hunstmen) and letting it loose in the garden, but cockroaches just have no respect. They turn up when they please, and they don't even act afraid. And they don't seem to understand that it is NOT COOL to live under the microwave. Hence, they must die.

Some final randomness...

First, I think I have one more addition to make to my list of resolutions:

5. I will accept people for who they are, not who I think they should be. I will try very, very hard not to judge.

Second, I've had some time off work (we go back next week) and Daniel has been making a real effort every morning to come and snuggle in bed with me before he leaves for work. I find this very pleasant.

Third, teaching yourself German from a book isn't as easy as I might have hoped.