Blisters. Because we really had to walk and take a look in that disco, only to discover that we were right: there was no one.
Decisions. Did I think I had decided upon my studies? Ah ah ah. Good joke. Really.
Heat. 39°C, in Belgium. Rather unique. You won’t hear me complain about it, but I’m inside, and happy with that.
Skirts. Though I don’t often wear them, this climate doesn’t give me a choice. I’m even happy with the existence of skirts. Because sometimes, pants won’t do.
Pink toenails. I’ve got a pair of shoes, black shoes, which immediately turn my toenails into black, unhealthy looking things. So I painted them pink. And then wore such little socks in my shoes anyway.
Eighteen is a much exciting age indeed.