Fish and Rage

  I hate fish. I am an official fish hater. I have tried with, well almost, everything in me to like fish. I know it’s one of the healthiest foods, and I know it’s one of the delicatessens of fine dining, yet I hate it. I hate the smell, I hate the taste, and I even hate the look of fish, dead fish that is. I can almost taste the slimiest and feel the grittiness by just envisioning myself eating it. So it will come as no surprise to you that this afternoon, when Christofer pulled out a can of sardines, I very nearly passed out. He then promised to go and eat it in the living room, which in my opinion is way too close to the kitchen, but I can't exactly make him sit outside and eat them. Well, actually, that’s a rather good idea, hmm.

 Anyway, he had eaten all of it when I came in to say hi, yet it still smelled awful. I made him wash the can out with soap and water and open the window, then and only then could I enter the living room. Ahh, my poor husband. I try telling him that its just because I feel bad for the little fishes, yet for some odd reason he never seems to believe me.

  Well, as no surprise, once again I didn't get in to University over here. I know they don't understand home schooling, but I am beginning to wonder if they understand any other school system than Swedish. For some strange reason the woman I have been communicating with insist on writing in English, which is obviously not her strong side. Ahh, what to do, with a system that won't accept me?!

  One positive, or not so positive, thing is she is allowing me to take a Swedish class. Which for some reason really seems strange to me since the classes I tried getting in to where mostly English classes, I'm not allowed to take those classes since my High School degree doesn't match that of a normal Swedish High Schooler, but I'm allowed to take a Swedish College class? I hate to be mean, but wouldn't it make more sense to allow me to take the English classes, since I obviously know my language. AHHH, off with her head...or, as my friend James from England would say. 

'I hate her, bless her heart.'

Enough angry Eliza for one day.

Adjö gott folk...