As if God himself had heard my shittacular week from above and decided to divinely intervene, today was pleasantly nice. Spent the day chez Elaine with Gayoung making food, playing piano, and being silly. It’s days like these that make me go ”I’m not ready to grow up.” On second thought, maybe it’s just an Asian thing; we just don’t age as quickly as other races, physically and mentally. (And by that I don’t mean we’re mentally slow, but that we retain our youthfulness long after everyone else has matured into the seriousness of adulthood.) Think about it, it makes sense.

Anyway, it made me realize that in my passionate insobriety, perhaps I had been a bit too inconsiderate. I don’t retract what I say about the Norwegian social culture–c’est encore le goût de soufre et j’en déteste–but there have been a few people here that have made my life here very special and enjoyable, and at times, bearable. They have been so welcoming, patient, and genuinely warm, and though I don’t spend nearly as much time with them as I would like to, I cherish those fleeting moments. Breddeidrett and Historie og Filosofi with Anniken, Samfunnsøkonomi med Gulli, kveldsturer along the beach with Bjørn-Kristian, conversations about culture-shock and immersion with Gayoung, these are the moments I want to remember and take from my experience. These are the memories that truly matter. Takk.