Saturday night I went to a fire brigade competition. This is where fire fighters have competitions to see who can put the hose together fastest. Then they shout to two liters of beer. I was not expecting much from the event, but I had so much fun and got way too drunk and then fell on my face, which was sort of embarrassing, except I was drunk enough not to care about being embarrassed. I have a little bruise on my face. It looks like this:

Can you see my injuries? I also cut open my lip on my teeth when I fell so my mouth was bloody, which probably made it look worse than it actually was. And my nose hurts a little. Injuries are embarrassing. 

I woke up at 4:30 this morning, knowing that in my head it was 3:30 and that it was only daylight savings that made it 4:30. I couldn't get back to sleep. I lay around and was homesick and bought the Minneapolis Star Tribune on my kindle and read about things in the Twin Cities and felt more homesick. 80 days. It is all very bittersweet. Part of me wants to stay here forever and part of me desperately wants to go home.