sorry...

apologies are strange things. Laci was here on Sunday night for dinner, and we spoke about the importance of sincere apologies, and them only being sincere when they are not backed by excuses.

I did this. I'm sorry. Not "I did this, but I did it for these reasons and and and" and as we were talking, I thought about saying sorry to Gareth, because in the almost-year with Balint I think I have grown a fair bit, and not just widthways, but also morally, and I would like the opportunity to say sorry, but after that conversation on Sunday, I don't know if I am ready to be sincere yet.

Otherwise...

The weekend just past was lovely and bittersweet in places. On Friday night I spent hours talking with B's mum and sister, and then we spent Saturday reading and dicking around before a phenomenal party for Mob's nameday. I drank too much hubertus and beer, and chundered (yakked) halfway through the night, but felt heaps better for it.
B also got tiddly, though by the time we left I was almost sober. We got in cab, made it home, where I caught sight of the wheeling stars and a little bit of my drunkenness returned and I was wallopped by homesickness...but it passed in the morning.

Sunday was angry. There was much shouting, B, his sister, and crying- B's mum. They're a difficult family, but not difficult to love.

So, on Monday- we moved. We moved home. And it's wonderful. We may not agree on styles of crockery and cutlery, but it's our place, and I bloody love it.