Stayin

I am hanging cards from my venetian blinds. You ever realised that if you put your head against the outside of the window you can read some of people's cards. Yeah neither!!

It has been funny, since finishing up with my job at Tutankhamaun, everyone is asking me if I am moving back to Sydney. No... No I am not.

Said goodbye to my friends at Tut in the last few days and it has been quite sad. It has not really sunk in that I will not go back there and expect the unexpected. From dumb questions about whether the artifacts are from Egypt, to crazy guests and random failures of equipment. Farewell Uncle Tut.

So saying goodbye means saying hello to the life of doing not much at all. Really hope this is not for a while because it lets me think WAY too much. From realising I daydreamed for 20 minutes about whether a forklift could lift a house, to choosing books to read that I then proceed not to read. But if you stack the books next to your bed, it looks like you are reading all of them at once, mixing up some deep abstract book with a light fiction book. So that if someone finds the pile, they will go, oh he is just so well read. But really.. I am now kinda concerned who this person is that I would not already know. Some creepy stranger who can see through the crack in the blind and wondering how intelligent I am? OR maybe some hip bug that is crawling up my wall and is totally inspired by my reading material. But at the end of the day, I have not read them. The hip bug will just THINK I am cool. But who cares what a bug things anyways... yeah?

I am in a cafe and there are three young kids, assuming they are brothers as there is one woman with them and she looks just a tad drained. They are wrapping themselves around the stainless steel legs of the table they are sitting at, and bashing each other. If I did that, I would be asked to leave. Mainly cause my imaginary friends were bashing me up too much and I would be playing dead on the cafe floor in front of some poor lady who has not finished her flat white. Er... I say that in a light way, not a psychotic way. So yeah... LOOK! Christmas lights!

Less than a week to Christmas. I like the lead up way more than the day itself. The day itself is always a bit too much of a "Hey I am here! Make the most of me as I am not here for another year!

Cal has now arrived in Melbourne for good. His arriving has reminded me about my own arrival here in Melbourne almost a year ago now. Any change such as moving cities really is quite a whirlwind in your head. You can start thinking about whether this was the right decision or not, when really only time will answer these questions. I have no regrets and love the decision and over the past few days have been reminded of this. Oh and I also had a lychee margarita and that was bloody nice.

Santa and Anubis want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! I may have them as key rings.. and Santa only seems relevant at this time of year. Funny that..



OH and I made a sandcastle.

It's time.

This has spread like wildfire and so it should. I am just doing my part in case those of you who have not seen it, can see it now. Sums it up, and filmed so beautifully in my home town of Sydney. It really IS time.

Keep still

Sometimes it feels like the key piece of advice is to physically keep still so your head doesnt move. You can't move because all your current knowledge and thoughts may fall out, just drop out of some brain cell and dribble into space and not come back. I have read and seen some really inspiring pockets of wisdom in the past few days and I am so worried it will be lost. But the funny thing is that I don't want to write them down as it may be lost somewhere just as easily.

Pretty mentally exhausted right now with the loom of my job almost at the end. And the uncertainty, can be so romantic but then there are the days when it is just plain inconvenient. "I dont know what my next job is", I can say with a grin.

Just spent the weekend in Sydney. Had a few days where at the end of them my soul felt full, like I had spoilt it. And I was with Cal for most of it. Some of the highlights were Trapeze lessons and my good school bud Bede's wedding. Amazing weather all weekend and I even swam at a real beach, not like the ripples of the bay down here in Melbourne. Sorry Melbourne.

Trapeze lesson. Cal bought us a lesson as an adventure. I was fully on board but had not really processed what was involved until 15 minutes prior where I became quiet and unnerved. We were walking to the destination in Centennial Park in the city, wheeling my suitcase (it was actually my boss's overnight bag as she couldnt handle me taking my old gym bag away) and Cal noticed I went quiet. Finally the land of Trapeze appeared in the distance and it kinda clicked I was going to go swing on a Trapeze. I still dont know what they call it, the bar? Within 10 minutes they made us do stretches, hang off a bar 2 metres from the ground and then we were climbing up the ladder one by one ready to swing off for the first time. I would say it was a surreal experience and also loved that they just threw us into the deep end. After two hours I managed to swing and jump out and be caught by one of the trainers swinging from the other bar. Oh that and a broken toe and bleeding hand.



I got to read the Bible at my mate Bede's wedding this weekend. It really was an honour, because to me it was a good old friend from Christian days who showed so much love and acceptance back then and now and simply wanted me to read at his wedding. The passage was 1 John 4:9-12 and this is about God and his love for us, and the fact we cannot see God means we must love one another to express the love that God has for us. There is a lot of truth in this whether you believe in God or not, loving and accepting one another is such a basic need. When you do this, so much is easier. I stood up there proud to be holding such a symbol from my past and still see the relevance now, and also celebrating an old friend finding a companion to share his life with.



At the reception there was a polaroid camera. And it is just so cool right now to take photos with these, or more so, use a hipstamatic function on our iPhone. These are real and we had quite the laugh doing this, reminded me of 2001/2 Physics class at SSCS.




And today is the final day of Movember. And aint my Mo just beautiful... It has been fun but also been super to support organisations such as Prostate Cancer, that has affected my own family. Raised $380, thanks for those who donated! I was very chuffed and much higher than I thought it would be.



How much does it suck when you spend too much time pushing against a door that you then glance down at and it says "push". Hello December.

The Holstee Manifesto: Lifecycle Video

I dont do this that often but this brightened my day because I am more than happy to agree with this manifesto. Well shot video too.

Enjoy your day.

Running

So, if you ever feel like going for a 14KM run, try it. You will be surprised how much further you can run if you have lots of people running with you. I ran the City2Sea with people from work, was so much fun! I could now go into some metaphorical tangent on how if you have lots of people with you on a journey the journey is easier. But will stop.... there.



Yellow, green, blue and red gumballs. What one would you be bummed at if it came out of the machine and which would you be happy about? Green is my happy gumball, yellow is my sad.

So my adventure with King Tut gets closer to the end. Really starting to get reflective of it (you cannot half tell, since I am writing about it in a blog) and I am so bloody thankful I took this role on. The people I have met, the experience I have had and to be looking after such a beautiful set of artifacts from a civilization so long ago has been simply an honour. And the dolphin mascott has been inspirational. The hunt continues for my next role.

One of my best buds Adam made an interesting observation yesterday. Compared me to the Tortoise in Tortoise and the Hare (I have never petted a Tortoise, maybe one day though). He said I am happy to run the race slow and just be patient with what comes my way. Still feel I should be more proactive! If I was to be any creature in a fable though, I would want to be the amusing penguin in that fable that I just made up in my head. Oh silly penguin, he is so funny... and you learn so much from him and his ways.

In my last blog I mentioned Cal. In a lot of ways I dont really even want to mention him in my blog too much, cause this story is one I want to keep close and just for me. But will just say, it is an adventure where I have a big grin on my face.

I was walking to work the other morning and walked under a giant fig tree. I will call it a fig tree cause it sounds better than a latin name. I dont wanna get all intellectual. That would make me sound smart and have good grammar and stuff like yeah? The path ran under this beautiful big tree and the early morning light along with the stillness of the still sleeping city made a shroud over me. Very peaceful, was almost expecting Mr Fox to appear, he didnt though. I then noticed a man, he was laying on one of the roots of the tree. His eyes were closed and he was mouthing words. He looked about 40 and dressed in casual clothes, not the kind a homeless fella would wear. He had just come to stop and be still and I couldnt have chosen a better place to do that. Well you would be fairly still in a straight jacket but yeah, another kind of still. I moved on, noone wants a random stranger walking by to stop and just watch you laying there. Well I dont.

I am also halfway through Movember today! Where you grow a Mo and donate to charity. Part of it was also running the race I mentioned. The trouble though with my Mo is it is long but so light compared to my head hair colour and looks pathetic. Example...



Though if anyone wants to support me, money is going towards Prostate Cancer and Beyond Blue, an organisation supporting Mental Health.

http://mobro.co/lloydjones

I am concerned my wallpaper on my phone is of a Jam label, but come on who doesnt like Jam. Jello for you Americans. And it is kinda healthy if you think about it. Mashed up fruit with sugar. We all need sugar and we all need jam. And especially rasberry jam. Cause you can imagine sailing across a sea of it and you could smell it in the air, fresh seabreeze than smelt of sugar and rasberries.



And one last thing, this was blaring across the tent where I was hanging out with Cal after the race on Sunday. Just made me happy, gotta like a band called Talking Heads.

Brown Paper

I opened my letterbox today and there was a brown envelope in there. And of course there was one little snail on the corner. The stupid snails have come back. I have accepted a compromise with them, where I leave junk mail in there as food, and they usually dont touch fresh letters. Deal. No Deal, this immature young snail obviously didnt get the memo from the older wiser snails, dont touch day old mail. Silly loser.
So yes, the envelope. I didn't recognise the handwriting and it had the same stamp my mum had placed on the postcard I also received today. The post card was from some tree top world where she climbed a tall tree. Good on her! NO idea where this place was but hey, my Mum sends me random postcards and that is special in itself. I brought both the items inside and dumped my backpack on the airbed that is currently in my living room. My mate Jon (the one who had been volunteering as a nudist farm in Byron Bay) is crashing at mine until he moves into his new home in a week. One of my lounges was upside down on part of the airbed, I had placed it there, it seemed a great place to dump it so I could dry my washing with it. I just reread that sentence, yeah don't ask.
BACK to the envelope, stop distracting me. I opened it up and instantly knew who it was from. Cal. I met Cal in July when I was in Sydney visiting family and it ended up being a pretty dreary visit, wet weather and a lot of cancellations with friends, on top of me getting the flu. One of the final days, I had been in touch with this fella and he asked me to meet him. My gut said I shouldn't, as he lives in Sydney and I live in Melbourne. What if I liked him, that would be bad, no? Then the other part of my gut won. What if I liked him, that would be good, yes? Caught a cab and our brunch meeting began with me standing next to a roast chicken store, watching a little girl attack her dog with her pink PVC umbrella, and him walking up the street towards me. Hello Cal.
It was a good brunch and I walked away thinking it was a sweet little chapter to have met a nice person. I also felt proud of myself, I was so mature about it, at peace and just content to recognise a connection. But to focus on what life is currently presenting to myself, back in reality in my new home of Melbourne.
So I slid the letter out and unfolded it. Double-sided and in flowing old style cursive writing. The paper was the same colour as the envelope, classic and smooth brown paper. It was him to a C (C being C for.. Cal. People usually say "it is them to a T" but C rhymes with T, clever. On same page?). I saw the back page first and saw him signing off. I grinned. Letters are amazing, they will always beat emails hands down. They are something physical that has traveled to your hands through a postal system, your eyes scanning real paper and ink. You can see the small imperfections (or if its my handwriting, my beautiful illegible doctor handwriting) of the person who wrote it, yet those imperfections become the personality of the letter. The thought flowing from mind to pen and paper, to finally flowing from paper to processing of that thought in the receiver. Ok ok, you get it. Letters=equal amazing in my eyes.
It was a beautiful letter and so well expressed, leaving me standing there just smiling. Smiling felt like such a limitation of how I felt inside.

Somehow I was convinced to dress up at work. And be the only person at work, who was dressed up for the day. Howard Carter was the fellow who discovered the tomb. It was to be 89 years tot he day that he had discovered it in 1922, so I was asked to dress up in 1920's aristocratic clothing for the day. I gotta admit though, I love wearing a suit. And wearing one with tails was bloody awesome. In the end I enjoyed it, more because of the two types of reactions from guests/staff. Either they looked at me and smiled and had curiosity about them as to what on earth I was doing. Then there were many who looked at me, didnt bat an eyelid and continued on their way. Melbourne indoctrinates people to expect crazy dressed up people.





Marissa and I went to Phillip Island. ONLY ever go to Phillip Island if you really really need to see the penguins. There is nothing else on that island that is worth seeing. I repeat, only if you want to be stuck in a tourist trap with thousands of other tourists watching little penguins come up from the beach. Marissa and I didnt even see this, but we DID get to see the Phillip Island Chocolate Factory and also Pirate Putt Putt Golf. We also saw an animal sanctuary through a cafe. One enclosure had a fake goanna in it. We sat and ate "home made pizza" while we took delight in watching tourists walk up, look at the goanna for about a minute and wondering if this goanna was just really sleepy, dead, or fake. Our day was made.

We had a day of hot weather yesterday. A day. Thanks Melbourne.

I was going to put up a video about Doctor Who I was introduced to by my friend Joseph but then thought, no, I wont.

Great Expectations

Does anyone else find baby goats bloody cute? And not bloody that is linked to the word slaughter, but bloody like.. "amazing". Nah that doesnt sound any better.

It is near the end of October 2011. And this time last year I was in the USA having an adventure. NYC to be precise if I was to look at where I was this day last year, wondering around Central Park by myself and being asked to take photos of couples who were also exploring Central Park. This highlighted the fact I was alone. Not in a bad way, I just am also more the person to do the Gen Y, take a photo of yourself, type shot. But only when noone was looking. Asif I would wanna see anyone watching me take a self photo at some tourist location. That would make me look like a loser yeah? Well they can be the losers.. yeah... So yes, the trip was amazing and a year on, I still appreciated the time and the company. Yes I was not alone for most of the trip, just a lot of NYC. I need to give the city another chance when I have likeminded friends travelling with me.

Speaking of NYC, is 30 Rock as good as people go on about? I find it amusing at times but there are too many annoying characters to make it amazing.

So. I ate a rissole. What IS a rissole, the Americans may ask? And the Alaskans. Well it is like a large meatball that is flattened, thicker than a beef patty and is cooked often on an Aussie BBQ. Why am I informing the internet that I ate one. Well,it wasnt just any old rissole. The pub I was at, had a buffet dinner. You paid $7.50 and could eat all you wanted from a selection of potato salad, caesar sald, sausages, chicken bits (cause I am unsure what part of the chicken's form they were from) and rissoles. I had two rissoles and thought, "yum". Later that evening the buffet was packed up and I happened to be standing nearby. I cant deal with seeing food going to waste, so I was apalled to see them place the leftover meat in the alfoil tray and then this tray thrown in the bin. I mentioned to a mate with me that I could have had another rissole. He said, "Well why dont you?" I am always prepared to take on some bit of a dare. So I reached down and took a rissole out of the bin. Yes, I said that sentence. I justified and hey, I am still justifying that it was in a metal tray on the top of the bin. Others argue back, Lloyd, it was in the bin.
So I took a bite. Before I did, I noticed mine had a piece of cheese or mustard on top. It was inside a badly lit pub so couldnt tell. And then I chewed. I got the sudden texture and flavour of minted chewing gum combining with beef flavour. That was not cheese and/or mustard but gum. Some random person's gum. I froze, trying not to allow my senses to continue to inform me, gum and beef are in your mouth. This did not work.
You know those situations where you are standing in a group and you just did something a tad embarrassing, yet you want to pretend you didnt. Yep, that was me. Though everyone was slightly aware I had eaten it but if I spat it out my only option would be to do that into my hand (all class here!) The whole experience was worse inside my mouth than the potential embarrassment so I spat it out.
"Um, did you realise that it was from the bin and your morals fought against you?", Said a mate.
"Yeah.. it was cold.."
Small chuckle followed.
But then.. no.. the story of what happened, I couldnt keep it in. It was apalling and needed to share.
"There was gum on that rissole"
You can picture their reactions if it is anything like your own right now, and I am still being called Dumpster Diver...

A good friend of mine messaged me yesterday, informing me he wished to take a break from our friendship. He listed his reasoning and wished me all the best with everything. Naturally I was surprised and also baffled as to his reasoning. And I am not going to use my blog to defend myself, I am always happy to put up my hand if I am doing something wrong or if I suck at something. People are the most important thing to me. But my response simply is, some friendships you fight for, sometimes you cant. It is sad either way, and dislike disappointing people. We all have great expectations somewhere along the line.

My mate Joseph would like me to knit jumpers for penguins who are effected by the oil spill in NZ. I only have red wool, will they be confused? Would red penguins be outcasts?



I always find I am easily distracted by Wikipedia. I click from one article to the next as they all link in with each other. I was asked just before, "what are you up to?". Naturally I was reading a Wikipedia article on the mystery behind Australia's old Prime Minister Harold Holt who went missing and presumed dead off the coast of Victoria in the 1960s. And before that, I wanted to know about penguin jumpers.

Oats

Oats are sitting in a clear plastic tub beside my desk. Supposedly they have been doing so since one of the first weeks of starting at my current job. I could eat porridge everyday of the year. Except when I wanted Vegemite toast or Corn Flakes. And somehow I wonder if there is judgemental thoughts that I still have these same rolled oats in the container and why have I not eaten them? The air inside too stale? Or maybe they just are not organic, steel-cut oats. Cause a book said once that its what you gotta eat. The cheap pack may have been cut by a second best pair of scissors.

I have been wanting to write about my adventure to Hobart. I only really realised how much of a story it is until I have verbally told people a few times now. And hey maybe it IS a verbal story that makes it a story? I may be setting myself up for a fall. But I do notice I do a lot of things these days so they can be stories. Isnt that what life is for? Dont worry, next entry will be simply the story, a teaser is awesome aint it. A flight to Hobart and back in one day, that wasnt paid by me but a complete stranger.

I went to Sydney last weekend and landed back to Melbourne last week. I had an amazing time for several reasons.

Though how did I initially get to Melbourne airport to head to Sydney you ask? That is usually the next question.
Well I had a text from a mate the night before I was flying out and he said. "Hi mate, me and my friend are on our way to Melbourne. We are moving to Melbourne and are 4 hours away! We have been volunteering on a nudist farm in Byron Bay for the last four months and now my mate is looking for a space in Melbourne where he can busk without having a license as he is broke."
It is the sort of text most people receive on a Friday night and so I shrugged and asked him where he was staying.
"Some place just on the outskirts of Melbourne, sleeping in our van".
Of course! Then naturally I thought, well my place is free for the next four days so I would let them stay at mine. I offered, he was stoked and they headed to mine. They said they would drop me off at the airport the next morning as a small thank you. I obliged and thought that was really nice and we said pleasantries and went to sleep. Bright and early we jumped into this van, that was scattered with boys stuff. They had to shift a lot of random shoes and gas bottles out of the way so I could fit in. And then we were off! Navigating through the CBD in the early hours of a Saturday was simple and we drove up onto the freeway. The E-Tag chimed in and both of them went, "Thanks Christians!". Supposedly the previous owners were a Christian couple who sold the old Tarago van for $900. Though seems they had forgotten to deregister the E-tag for tollways.
As it got lighter and the airport drew near, I was staring off in front of me. The front car seat where my mate sat looked like a front car seat. Though I noticed little whisps of smoke. Well, maybe smoke, or maybe steam? "Er.. guys.. there is some sort of gas like substance rising out of your seats..."
"Ohhh she is doing it again! Cool down baby, cool down.." Seems the van was heating up, and we passed the 2.5KM sign to the airport. I looked at my watch and I had 25 minutes to go.
"Do you mind if we pull over and cool her down?"
What other option did we really have.
Pulled over. Stopped. Opened the front car seat and exposed the engine, and a gush of steam escaped, peeling into the back seat with me and five odd shoes and a sleeping bag. This reminded me of the time when I was 7 and our family van broke down in the snow on a family ski holiday. That was not fun. And we got to know the town of Cooma way too well.
The boys had forgotten to place the cap back on the cool thingy. They filled it up with water and screwed it on. Seat clicked back into place, boys jumped in and doors shut. Engine started and indicator clicked on, we were on our way again. She chugged along and steered up the ramp to the departures. Thank you Tarago! With time to spare.

I walked into a wall inside my own Exhibition yesterday. You would think that after 8 months of walking through the same space I would not, but no, my eyes were still adjusting to a darker part of the galleries and SMACK. It also had to be during a really busy period. And as a lot of humans do, just kept walking and pretended it did not happen. The security guard and my colleague Kitty did not pretend this did not happen.

Back to thoughts on Sydney, I got to see my new nephew, Eden. He looked a bit pissed off that he was outside of the womb. As you would be, so many sights and smells and noises that you just suddenly have thrown around you and will continue to have happen to you for the rest of your life. The smiles will begin to come.

I also got to spend a sunset by Sydney harbour. It really cannot be beaten in its beauty, and with the warm spring air and the stillness around, it was beautiful. Caleb was with me and we got to have fun taking photos and being a bit creative, subtly trying to outdo each other with our ideas. That part was fun. This was a combined effort:




And this was all Caleb's idea this time:



I also got to visit my other brother, sister in law and their two awesome little girls. It is special to come back each time and see how much they have subtly changed and how their personalities keep sprouting and forming. Last time I saw my littlest niece she was quite shy and still quite baby like, three months later she is a cheeky and happy little girl, very keen to cling onto me and watch everything. Now this might just sound a tad gushy from a proud uncle and yes, apologies. But it just really makes you appreciate every little step.



And this is one of my favourite songs right now. Groove it up!!

Messing

Wow I just stood up again, after sitting at this screen, some part of me has this fear in writing. Distraction supposedly protects me from writing. Wait, microwave just beeped. Cookie that was frozen is now not frozen, I will come back. OK I am eating the cookie. Pretty terrible. Who decides to produce and sell citrus, sultana and oat cookies? Not I, I decide to purchase them. Now I really have nothing more to say about the cookie, other than it is now stuck to the roof of my mouth and the citrus taste is regretful, possibly even apologetic.

What is so bad about sitting here and just writing? The clock keeps ticking and the fridge keeps humming, the birds outside keep singing. And before you know it, it turns into an appalling reflective poem. The whoosh of the wind taps my loose window panes and the snails... ok vomit vomit vomit.

The fear inside comes from thinking that, someone else writes, lots of people write. And they must be better and smarter and wittier than I am so why even bother starting sometimes. I think a lot of us can get like that. Or we just do not have something good enough to say. If we crap on about feelings or the onomatopoeia of... nah that word sounded good but totally forgotten what it means so will drop that train of thought. The fear also of screwing up. When you are given something good, you wanna hold it, whether it is physical or it was an event or an experience. You want to treasure it and not take it for granted. Cup it in your hands, peek inside and grin. But the wind may pick up and may blow it out of your hands. Or it may seep out, lacking breath. Though the key word being MAY. And the key word is forgotten and to protect yourself you say WILL. So you can easily give up and accept this WILL happen so why bother holding it. Let it go. Elliot the plant doesnt think like this, he hasnt moved all morning. There are some wild winds outside and every little leaf and branch outside is knocking around wherever the wind chooses to shake them next. Yet Elliot is still, in the foreground, totally calm and unaffected from the flurry outside. But screw it. There is also the other side. That wild wind, that lack of oxygen or just simple badly designed structure, cannot stop events, experiences. They happen and will continue to happen. And I have something to say, as does everyone. But I can only speak for me, and will continue to talk, continue to create. And good things happen. Cringe worthy words yep, but because overuse of phrases such as these have sucked the meaning out of them, doesnt mean I cant squeeze my eyes shut and smile. Sometimes your gut just says it all.

Now for all those who tuned out, hello. I was five once (or twice) and my aunty sat on a log beside the fire. We were down at the holiday house in Manyana (when I say down, I mean down from Sydney) and this log had been sitting there for ages. It was a summer night and the ocean could be clearly heard in the distance. Mosquito repellent and smoke married together with the warm evening, to create that distinct southern coast Australian smell. The fire was quite close to this log, and it sneakily licked out every now and then towards the wood. As my aunty sat there casually, something inside the log was not so casual. Something felt uncomfortable and unsafe, so decided to work out what this was. Sorry, some THINGS, not just one thing. My Mum was there also and notified my aunty, not to move. Her shoulder, her other shoulder, her left arm, and three different places on her back now had alarmed and anxious spiders quivering on them. Now come on, what person decides to go, "Ha, OK I wont move"? Though we really should be considerate of the poor spiders, freaked out by the heat threatening their home. No, rational thinking there. My aunty stood up and shook, shook shook shook. And also did a bit of human verbal diarrhea that meant she was panicking. The kinds of sounds I couldn't even type, cause they would sound Russian or something. The spiders went flying, some landed on my mum, some on the cool grass, and some landed in the fire. Option 1, 2 or 3, they didnt get to pick one. Nor did my mum. I have attached a photo, to show you what they look like. Yes the clock says "prestige":

I am not too scared of them and would be fine picking one up. I had to when they would crawl across my lap in my van I drove at 17. They loved the van as a home and so when I drove their home (in a slight jerky motion back then) of course they would be anxious. Though the screaming friends in the passenger seat as I hurtled along the freeway did not appreciate my calm approach. Trapped inside the van, jumping over into the back seat and getting stuck on the gear stick in the process, one foot stuck in the seatbelt. Though the spider I reckon had a sense of humour and would walk along the ceiling towards them, my friends shoe missing the spider by a mile and hitting my head instead. I had to pull over in the end, not cause I cared about my friend but cause my eyes were so filled with tears from laughing so much.

We could totally analyse why I am talking about spiders, but we shan't. Lets just listen to the wind.