Sun, sangria and siestas.

Hola Blog,

I am not writing to you from my usual spot i.e. my study room or B6D in Collingwood College. No, I am writing to you from the study inside a house, in a place called Villanueva del Pardillo, just outside of Madrid. And why am I here?

About three months ago, I decided I didn´t want to spend this summer stuck in Carrickfergus, where all it does is rain and, if we´re lucky, the sky will only have a few clouds.

I also knew that if I wanted to be eating more than just bread and water next year, I might need to consider getting a job. And so, as I was browsing the internet in desperation to find a job, the words " au pair"struck me. 'Yes. Au pair' I thought to myself. I get to earn money and have a holiday simultaneously. A winwin situation really.

And this is exactly the case. A holiday whilst earning cash. Fantastic.

Revision? What?

I am currently listening to people having fun in the beer garden below my room and it is making me ponder why it is exactly that I'm stuck in B6D, downloading songs on itunes. Has my life hit such an all time low that I can't even pretend I'm revising?



In hindsight, though, I've never really been a reviser. I'm one of those people who pisses everybody off because I just don't do anything, thus I'm never that stressed and then, at the very last minute, I'll pick up a book and cram like there's no tomorrow. I always manage to do well in the end though. Well, this is what I am telling myself as I glance at all the books on my shelf which are bearing an increasingly thick layer of dust.



My itunes is playing 'there you'll be' by Faith Hill by the minute. I feel like standing up in my bedroom, pulling out the hairbrush and singing into it in a very Tina Turner-esque fashion. Whilst that may satisfy my temporary diva urges, it would be highly uncool if someone walked into my room and witnessed such bizarreness. So, I think I'll refrain.

I just love the song, because it reminds me of Pearl Harbor, which, I think, is possibly one of the saddest films I've ever seen. It doesn't quite reach Romeo and Juliet levels of sadness, but it's pretty close. When Danny dies, I literally cry every time. For me, that's pretty impressive because I tend not to cry that much or films, or generally at all these days, come to think of it.



Ooh, Hey Jude is now playing....I always get excited for the 'jude jude judy judy judy judy' bit, but, for some reason, lots of people don't seem as familiar with it as me, so everytime the song comes on I always belt it out, and people just look at me like I should be in an asylum.



Anyway, since I am clearly harping on about what songs my itunes is playing, I'll tell you what I've been up to. In conclusion: very little. I went out on the first tuesday back of term for a post-birthday celebration with some friends. We opted for a 'around the world' themed night, so everyone had to dress up as a country (or, in Mike's case, attempt to look vaguely country-related). He tied ripped up t-shirts around his neck and went as thailand...only 'tie-land.' I know, he is incredibly quick-witted at times.



I, being highly accustomed to my irish title ( the english don't really get the whole northern ireland thing, bless them), dressed up in green and wore a massive leprechaun's hat, which was accompanied by a very sexy ginger beard. We intended to go on a bar crawl, but decided that torrential rain, a bunch of drunk people, some of whom were wearing heels, and hills didn't really make such a fantastic combination. So we had more of a bar stay than a bar crawl, remaining in Collingwood for about 20 years, and then hitting studio when we were already smashed. Result.



On Friday night, we experienced our first Planet- complete with DJ Robin himself-of term. The night consisted of pre-lashing in Scott's room, drinking in the bar which left us barely able to make it to Planet. But, we managed to conquer our stumbling, and made it to the club in one piece. One of the night's highlights was mine and lucy's ridiculous 'birthday shout-out' to Sarah that ended with us muttering complete crap into the microphone, and wondering why noone seemed to understand what we were talking about. After singing at the top of our voices, and consequently destroying our voice boxes, to songs by S CLUB 7 and Bewitched and other songs that reflect our highly cultured nature, we headed for some post-clubbing food. While Scott and Lucy ended up ordering Pizza, Sarah, Adam and I headed for subway, which was apparently closed, but we seemed to be indifferent to this fact.

Due to the fact that my bladder felt on the verge of combusting, and I wasn't overly keen on being labelled 'the incontinent girl' by my peers, I made up some crap about needing their toilet because I was diabetic and had to inject. Lame, I know. But the guy was quite clearly thick and somehow bought into my pathetic story, and allowed us to use their loo. I thought it was a very kind act until I discovered that the toilet was in the middle of a dark corridor, which was rather lacking in doors. Nontheless, in a stage of desperation, I overlooked the creepiness, and just went. I wasn't entirely aware at that time that there was no toilet paper in the vicinity. So I had to ( very classily) shake it...like a polaroid picture. Well, I say this, but I did manage to find a page of the times newspaper on my way out. Even classier, I know.

Sarah and I attemped to look in another dark compartment of the very bewildering subway toilets, but clearly they are anti-hinges, because their door fell right on top of us and almost made us into human rugs.

Nights like that are what Uni is all about. It's the only thing getting me through these crappy exams. Please let me wake up one day and they'll all be over.
I'm not wishing death on myself by the way, just a very very long sleep.

Life: Four months on.

Usually I make some sort of apology at the beginning of my blog, telling you how bad I am for forgetting to write in it. I'm not going to do that this time. Sometimes there are better things to be doing in life that sitting in front of a computer, typing in a blog that, generally speaking, makes me sound like a big of a depresso.


I have a tendency to view my blog as a kind of escape mechanism, so every time I'm a little bit down or, contrarily, over-the-moon about something, I'll write about it. But these types of blogs aren't quite 'me' because they leave out all the inbetween emotions and situations that shape my everyday life. On the whole, I'm a very-at least I like to think-optimistic person, so I would just like to inform you that I am not on the verge of wrist-slitting or becoming a fan of death metal in the near future just because I may sound a bit down occasionally. Chances are that I felt like that for one day, picked myself up again and got over it.



I don't really know where to begin because this poor blog has been neglected for around four months, which is like a third of a year and actually quite a long time when you think about it.


Things haven't changed dramatically if I'm totally honest. I haven't decided to quit University, leave the country, convert to Islam or get a sex change or anything like that...I guess I've just matured a little. Little being the operative word. I'm not saying I'm now suddenly an avid attender of my thursday 9 am lecture on spanish history or that my pure love for studio mondays and loveshack wednesdays has dwindled, but I do think I have learnt a lot about myself.

I've learnt that I really love spending time with people and that I could never live alone when I'm older, but that I also find it quite a liberating feeling to spend time by myself, not in a i'm-a-social-recluse-esque way, but just to sit and think. College, awesome as it is, can have its downfalls. If you feel like being pensive or if you're majorly hormonal and need a good irrational cry, it is quite often the case that you just can't. You try the 'I'll be really silent and pretend I'm not in my room' method for a while or pretend to be vaguely upset about something when the reality is that you just need to breathe. I hope I'm not creating the allusion that I somehow shun public contact ( I'm quite sociable...I promise you), it's just I find it a tad chlaustrophobic to be living in the same vicinity as people who are jumping up and down with hyperness when what I really want to do is to give someone a cuddle or watch tv. Thankfully I'm not constantly on my period so that feeling of 'someone, please give me a hug' is usually temporary.


I've also fallen into the 'drifting away from home friends' trap that I thought was beyond possibility prior to moving away. There are people from home who I can confidenly say I will be friends with for a very long time, if not forever, and then there are that select ambiguous few who are sort of just 'there'. They are my friends and every now and then I'll wonder how they are, but really we make a mutual amount of effort, which is no effort at all as it goes.

I have actually managed to contact a few of the friends who I thought I was never going to see again in my life( except possibly at the belfast high reunion in 20 years), so I'm really looking forward to meeting with them over the easter hols. It'll be like a table-banging english talking and listening session I imagine, we'll have that much to say.


It's so strange to be home. Last term flew in even more than the previous one. In a sense, I love being at home, because it's where I feel most secure, but then again, I always get a little bit bored. It has absolutely nothing to do with the people there incase you're thinking 'bitch.' It's more just that the pace of things is a lot slower and so if you want to meet up with someone, you have to text them a week in advance, wait two days for them to text back, then meet up...but chances are it'll get cancelled anyway.


I prefer it when I'm constantly busy and socialising and, if I sit about all day doing nothing, I think ' well that was a total waste of a day.' I know it may seem marginally irrational to think I have to be filling every second of my time with something productive or interesting, but I often think that there is so much to see and do in the world and I have so far only experienced a tiny fraction of what it has to offer. I mean God didn't really create a huge world so that we would just stay happily enclosed in Broadlands Gardens, Carrickfergus, did he?

Given that I'm not made of money and am, in fact, quite the opposite, I'm unlikely to be jetsetting across Europe anytime soon, but I just hate routine. I hate doing exactly the same thing every day because, to me, it seems a bit pointless. How can you really learn new things if everything you do remains constant? That was kind of a rhetorical question, but I think the answer is 'you can't.' And, for that, I am so glad to have gone away to uni, to finally step outside of my comfort zone and meet people whom I may not have necessarily chosen to be friends with in Northern Ireland, or even have had the opportunity to meet. That's the thing about Northern Ireland: despite its wondrously friendly people, it can become a bit of a bubble...not that Durham exactly screams cosmopolitan, but it allows you to meet such a wide range of people. That, I think, can only be a good thing.

I forgot to mention to you that you are now hearing from a nineteen-year-old Melissa. Nineteen is one of those weird, somewhat boring ages, since you are no longer 'just an adult' and so the excitement of being able to do things legally is long gone and yet you are still, in theory, a teenager so you have to pretend to associate with spotty, 'oh my god my boobs are growing' thirteen-year-olds. To be honest though I'd rather be an immature teenager again than be twenty and having to think 'in five years time, I'm going to have to start wearing anti-wrinkle cream.'

My Birthday was really nice this year, very different from my karaoke limo and posh dinner 18th birthday, but it was just as good in its own little way. Basically everything that could potentially destroy a birthday celebration occured: some of my friends are still at Uni so, for obvious reasons, couldn't be there, Catherine got a weird bug and had to drop out last-minute, and Nikki had a band concert in Dublin. But, Saz and I, being the hardcore alcoholics that we are , though that there was no point in staying in just because it was just the two of us...*cue song*. So, like true students, we bought some cheap, but still relatively classy, booze from M&S, got a chinese( not so classy), sang some songs, acted a bit silly, and had a a really good time before going out to Box where we chav danced under strobe lights just like old times. We also managed to let ourselves get enveloped by the local sleazefest, which consisted of a stick-like giant who was swaying from side to side with each beat of the music, and what looked like a primordial dwarf, who just thrusted whenever he felt like it. He also freakishly positioned himself just behind me so he could grab onto my waist continually and then, when I turned round, he would look at me each time with a look of delusive apology and murmer 'oh sorry.' Meanwhile, I'm thinking 'yes, I'm sure you are, moron. It's so easy to grab onto a girl's waist. I wish my hands were less uncontrollable too.'

Oh and we can't forget raincoat guy who somehow thought it feasible to wear a parka inside a nightclub, stumble around the place looking like he was mentally unhinged and then chew the face off some chavtastic whore. If you want to get a boyfriend, I recommend you come to Northern Ireland. If you want to get a boyfriend who isn't weedy, spotty and unfailingly perverted, then I'd stay well shot of the place.

Thank God for England.

'They say that time has got a funny way of healing, right now that's the only consolation I can find...'

I am actually the most disgracefully disloyal member of the blogging world. Ever. I promise myself that I'll write in it every few weeks or so, but then I know that I'll have too much to write so I just avoid it completely, thus escalating the amount I have to write.

I honestly don't know where to start, because I feel that the past few months of my life have perhaps been the most significant months of my life.

Obviously one major difference in my life is that I no longer-well, for at least half the year-live in Northern Ireland. In all honesty, I would never have imagined that I would grow to love Durham so much; to the extent that I now think of it as like a second home. I went home for the weekend there, and though going home made me miss some of my home comforts, as well as all the people I love , part of me was still super-excited about the prospect of going back to my little room in Collingwood. And when I got back, I realised just how settled I feel here.

I am rarely homesick, lonely or bored here and I think that makes all the difference. Having good friends to talk to when you do feel just an inch of homesickness kind of takes it away again.
I think the fact that I always have stuff to do here makes it practically impossible to miss home all the time. Don't get me wrong, there have been times where I've looked at old photos on my wall or saw something that reminded me of home and I've started to get a little teary, but I think that's only natural.

Anyway, I love life here in Durham. Whether I'm having a night in watching a dvd with the girls or I'm out bopping away in love shack, I'm always having a good time, thank flipping goodness. I had been a bit worried that I wouldn't really like Durham and I'd end up having to transfer to Queens or something. Fortunately I'm certain I made the right decision in coming here.

Apart from the fact I have moved to another country, another major change has occured in my life-I broke up with my boyfriend. You may say, 'well that was bound to happen because you moved to another country', but to be quite honest, I didn't all at. You may also think that after a four month relationship, my life wouldnt be that much different. But it is- no matter how hard I try to move on and pretend I am completely content, I know that I am not and that I won't be for a good while. They say that time is a great healer though, and me being away in Durham will make it easier because we won't have to see each other every day.

When you're completely in love with someone, then suddenly your life changes and then everything changes between you both, you always wonder whether things would have been different if that change of lifestyle had not taken place. But that is something which I will probably never know and so I know that there isn't much point in thinking about it- it will probably just eat me up inside forever.
It is still very early days, and so I am at that stage that everyone probably starts at- you look around your room, you listen to your itunes and every item and every song reminds you of that person... you almost feel like you'd have to lock yourself in an empty room to escape that feeling of nostalgia and wanting to go back to how things were before. But this is now, not before, and I need to keep telling myself that. You can't recreate the past.

On the other hand, I know that out of every negative thing, something good will arise. Everything-cheesy as it sounds- happens for a reason, and that's what I keep telling myself right now. Because even though I don't quite understand why things are the way they are currently, there will be a point in my life where I recognise the purpose of this event in my life.
Kanye West( the blasphemous pig...though a good rapper) even said 'can only make me stronger'-right before saying something about a blonde dyke, I know, but he did say it nontheless lol; and it was a very wise thing to say.

So, I know I am inevitably going to be broken hearted for quite some time, but God promises good things to us, and I am just clinging on to that fact. If things could have been different, flip, i would have loved them to be, but rectifying a situation that probably isn't fixable when you're in another country is beyond possiblity, as much as I want to believe it isn't.

Anyway, that is my life at the minute. As you can see, it's a mixture of good and bad things, but all I can do is take the bad things on board and learn from them.

I'm away now to buy a dress for some bop thing tonight- i don't even have the money, but then again, I have nothing to wear, so I'd prefer to spend money than go in my birthday suit.

Until next time....

ciao!

New places, new things...

It is monday the 8th of September and I am sitting on my computer without the slightest amount of guilt about not having done my homework for first period this morning. Knowing that I don't have to shuffle awkwardly down Victoria Road, when the clouds are emitting buckets of rain, with an inside-out umbrella fills me with much more contentment than upset.

I was driving by BHS last week on my way to town and I must admit that seeing a flock of navy-blazered, awkward-looking first years, wearing their grey socks up to their knees because they haven't yet realized noone wears them, made me feel slightly nostalgic. But that feeling of wanting to go 'aww' is definitely abrogated by the fact that I have a whole month ahead of me of doing nothing...which brings me to...University.

Okay, so, as always, I underestimated my own intelligence and managed not to come out with any Es or Fs, praise the lord. That, of course, means that I am now a full-fledged student of Durham University. Spiffing, darling. Freshers week begins on the 5th of October, therefore I have almost a whole month of pre-uni preparation. I know for a fact that I am going to forget something majorly important like warm clothes, my ipod or my laptop. Please let me, even if it the only time I ever am in my whole life, be organised this time.

I'm thinking of my going away to Uni as a sort of holiday, as opposed to 'moving out.' If I thought of it as moving out, I'd quite possibly burst into floods of tears and not want to leave. In reality, I'll be in Northern Ireland for as much of the year as I'll be in Durham, so I'll really belong to both places, though Northern Ireland will always be home for me.

It's pretty strange; I thought that when it came to a month before going away, the idea of leaving would practically be consuming me, but it isn't. Don't get me wrong, it isn't that I haven't been thinking about it at all, it's just that it's all a bit surreal and so I haven't stopped, taken a breath and thought 'I'm actually going away. Crap.' I'm pretty excited about what things God has in store for me in Durham though. I've done my research, and plan to go to King's Church to see what it's like. It seems very studenty, so I figure I could make some good christian friends there-something that's pretty essential I think. I don't want to be the only fresher in Collingwood that isn't on a constant barcrawl, isn't taken by the idea that clubbing=life and doesn't want to have a one-night stand every night of the week.

Anyway, I just wanted to update with a quick pre-uni blog, because, most likely, my next post will be a few days before I go. Ahhhhhh. *Terror*.

It is almost half past one, and I am still in my pjs, so I better go.

Ciao!

"You're a falling star, You're the get away car. You're the line in the sand when I go too far."

Good old Michael Bublé, Sarah's husband, according to the keyring I bought her.

I am shocked, appalled, disgusted, astounded, and any other word that the thesaurus would come up with for that feeling, at the fact that I have not written in this lovely blog since the 12th of July. Though I do deserve mild punishment, the fact that I haven't been spending all my time on the internet is undoubtedly a very good thing.

Since my last epic tale, I've been generally day-tripping around Northern Ireland and visiting, ashamedly for the first time ever,the rinkha in Whitehead- apparently it's a local landmark. I'm not going to make myself feel guilty about it though, because whether it is well known or not, not seeing it will never compare to being a Giant's Causeway virgin for 18 years of my life. Thank goodness I have actually been there now- I'd hate my Uni friends to know more about my country than I do. Speaking of Uni, it is exactly one week to results day. Everytime someone utters the 'r' word, my poor wee heart wants to jump out of my chest.

The thought of not getting in to Durham is just too scary and even though it's likely that i haven't failed every module of every subject, there is still that worry of 'oh crap, what if I majorly messed up?'. Since this current topic of conversation is pushing me towards hyperventilation, I think I'll shut up. *Exhales.*

Anyway, we went to Castlewellan yesterday. Sorry, I should probably elaborate on my vague term 'we'- I am referring to me, Nicki ( who was driving), Heather and Phil. We arrived in Castlewellan at about 4, decided to walk around the lake for a while, then in a very rebellious fashion, very furtively made our way into the Castle for a mauds sans armbands. I know- we could have been arrested. Then, being the cultured people we are, we went to the chippy and sat on a beach eating our fried goods and simultaneously dodging a swarm of wasps. Eugh, wasps.

After that exciting event, we went back to Castlewellan and headed for the evening worship, which turned out to be a bit disastrous- we ended up going to the oldies one instead of the youth one, needless to say it was pretty snoreworthy. We listened to a woman talk about a mission trip,to Toga, which worryingly lacked anything about God, for what seemed like a century and then sang a few songs, which was a bit less 'i want to shoot myself in the head.'
At about 10.30pm, we made a very wise decision to leave Castlewellan and head home. My reason for using the term 'very wise' is due mainly to the fact that the fog was so thick that night, you could barely see ten feet in front of you. The level of sheer blindness was somewhat comparable to when I'm not wearing my glasses and I mistake inanimate objects for dogs and sometimes humans.

In other news, I am no longer single. That's right. You heard me. To be honest, I never really intended on getting a boyfriend right before going to Uni because I didn't think it would be ideal. But now, I think my views on the whole situation have changed. The amount of times I have complained about being single is probably a number I can't even count to( i.e. above ten, haha!) and also I feel like Jonny is just a direct answer to prayer. That I didn't even know him a month ago is the weirdest feeling, because I really do feel like I have known him forever ( bring out the cheese grater, I know.) For me, people and situations like that don't come along too often, and so I've come to the conclusion that not allowing God's will to happen would be like slapping him in the face and saying 'thank you for this amazing person and everything, God, but eh, I don't want your blessing.' Sort of like taking a birthday present back to a shop and refunding it.
I just feel extremely grateful that God has blessed me with such a lovely boyfriend who completely gets me- because, let's face it, I am a rather opinionated soul.

Since I am getting a bit tired, and will probably reach a weird stage of delirium soon, I think I'll go. Before I go, I'll leave you with a wee poem I decided to write last week. I was bored, and I just thought, ' I think I'll write a spiritual poem.' This was the outcome:

You envelop the darkness,
It cannot escape your radiance.
You illuminate the stars in Heaven,
They bow down and dance
Before you.

You are alpha and omega,
The earth is clenched in your hand.
Even the gittering water falls,
Cannot understand
Your splendour.

Your love surpasses reason,
It will never judge nor cease.
The Great I Am, the Three-In-One,
The Prince of Peace
You are.

You designed us in your image,
Our breath is for your glory.
Your death and resurrection is
The greatest story
Ever told.

You are promise, hope and joy,
We rejoice in divine romance.
You illuminate the stars in Heaven,
They bow down and dance
Before you.

Every knee will bow and every tongue confess and the voice of one crying in the wilderness Hallelujah.

In the last blog I wrote, I said that I thought summer madness and the formal would go briliantly. I think it's now fair to say that brilliantly was an understated term to use.

The 2008 Formal is a night that I will never forget. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely loved last year's formal- Sarah did, after all, dance with Miss Hayes to 'Dirrty'. That sort of thing doesn't really go out of your mind very quickly, but minus the hilarity of that situation, I can honestly say that this year's Formal kicked last years' ass.

The limo was as fun as ever, if not more so, because we played our favourite ghetto tune, 'the way i are' as we were approaching the Templeton. Unfortunately the idea that people would turn round and see us driving up to the Hotel was shattered when we discovered we were the first people to arrive. Yes, we arrived before the Teachers. Not even Mrs Gormley was as dedicated to BHS as us- we arrived practically a day beforehand. Scundering.

Because it's 11 o clock ( which, I know isn't that late, but it feels it) and because I'm feeling absolutely exhausted, I am going to try my very hardest to make a condensed account of the formal. So, maybe what I'll just do is tell you my highlight. Yes, that's what I'll do.

Well, this is going to sound rather odd on first glance, but I'll try to explain. My highlight of the formal was probably when the band sang 'superstar' by Love inc and when they sang Journey's 'don't stop believing'. I'd need more than two hands to count the times Sarah and I talked about 'superstar' making us feel nostalgic about leaving school and how much we just love the song. When I saw the band we had chosen for the formal, my heart did sink a little bit because they did not strike me as the type of band who would ever lower themselves to sing songs by 'Love inc'. But, I was wrong. As soon as I heard the words ' reach for the skyyyy', I felt like my upper 6th formal was complete. I could relax in the knowledge that the band sang a song that made me feel sad about leaving school, but in a good, memorable way. My reason for choosing 'don't stop believing' as a highlight of my formal is nothing to do with particularly loving the song, but more with the woman shouting, " Belfast High School, this is your anthem." I always did think it was a good song, but now when I listen to it, it'll always take me back to that moment of dancing with my best friends at my high school formal, when, even though I had blistered toes and a very crampy right foot, I was just so so happy to be there.

I didnt really get a chance to recover from the formal, because the next day, I headed off to Summer Madness, which, by the way, is the name of an event, as opposed to actual madness in the summertime. Just like every year, God showed me so many new things. Everytime I go away to christian events, I can't imagine finding out more about God- it's as if, in my mind, there are limits to his character. But then, in a sort of 'you can't be further from the truth' fashion, God always lets me see more of him. And I am so unbelievably glad that he does, because it just reminds me of the fact that I can become so complacent with my current state of christianity and so happy just to shine a little light, when I could be shining so much more.

Thoughout the week, as I went to seminars, morning worship, evening worship, sat about in the gazebo, got rained on a lot and ate a lot of junk food, in the midst of it all, God was so clearly with me. I realized probably for the first time what it really means to be a disciple, I saw just how powerful and awesome God is. The latter of those thing may seem like an obvious thing, but when you've been a christian for a while, your spark fades a bit and you latch onto the 'God is like a friend' idea when, in reality, he isn't like a friend. He is God, the creator of the universe, the alpha and omega...okay, so you can see what I'm getting it. He is amazing. And I think that I had forgotten that fact ever so slightly.

Since Summer Madness, a few of us have started getting together every Friday night for an all-nighter prayer thing. I cannot over emphasize the effect it has had on me. Above all, it has made me see the importance of being accountable to each other, that christians aren't in their journey alone, but together, as children of God. I think it has helped me focus on others a lot more, which is something I see as essential in the whole growing process. If anything, it has simply allowed me to see the power of prayer, which sounds quite obvious and simplistic, but that in itself is something exciting. For me, once you acknowledge how powerful prayer is, you can begin ( even if it is only slightly) to understand the mind of God more.

So, right now, I'm in a pretty great and happy state of mind. There is nothing to be particularly sad about- the sun was shining all day today, I went into Carrick with Nikki last night and saw, perhaps for the first time, how beautiful it really is and how lucky I am to live in it.

Due to the fact that my eyelids are on the verge of closing and that my head is splitting because I've been staring at a computer screen for so long, I will bid you farewell, dear blog.