Too much fish talk
05.07.06, 10:29 pm

I�ll cut straight to the chase � not enough has happened for me to write a normal update, so instead you�re stuck with my random thoughts and conversations. Although despite nothing having happened I still managed to talk to Lise for an hour and a half on the phone the other night � it�s so nice knowing that I won�t have to pay the phonebill here as I�m currently living on the damn thing. Seriously, I�ll talk to anyone, you just let me know. It�s the best way to kill the all-consuming boredom. And I�ve suddenly gone really tired despite feeling better in general today, so apologies for any stupid spelling mistakes or ramblings about boring things like cat hair. Kelly Clarkson�s been in my head all day� I don�t even live with Hannah anymore and that damn woman still haunts my every step.

I forgot to mention the football in my last entry. I watched it with my dad and the match was indeed very gutting; although by the time penalties came round I was too drunk on beer to really get that tense about it all. To be honest, we never played well enough to make me think we were going to win the World Cup, and Rooney probably deserved the sending off, but damnit the whole thing�s gone boring now we�re not in it. And I still really enjoyed calling Ronaldo a �greasy cheating little fuck�, amongst other things. Unfortunately now I have no idea who to support, as I hate all of the countries left. Maybe France, I think I hate them slightly less than all of the others, although despite knowing Zidane is a fantastic player there�s still something about him that really gets under my skin.

Lise: That�s just made me remember� isn�t fish the nastiest sounding word ever? I thought this yesterday and was really wishing there was someone around so I could ask them if they hated the word fish. Steve was there but I didn�t dare ask him, just thought, �I wish Hol was here, she�d care about fish�.
Me: Fish is a really horrible sounding word actually. Fish. Yeah, I don�t like it. Speaking of fish, I�m sat outside near the pond and it smells all fishy.
Lise: Well are there fish in it?
Me: Yeah but it�s like weird fishy smell.
Lise: It�s probably fish food.
Me: I think it�s more likely fish shit.
Lise: Your pond needs cleaning then.
Me: I don�t know if you�re supposed to clean ponds or not.
Lise: Well is there a filter thingy?
Me: I dunno, maybe� a filter what?
Lise: You know what I mean.
Me: *pause* Actually I don�t. I don�t know who we�re trying to kid with all this bullshitting, we know sod all about ponds.

Ciaran�s currently living here at the moment, on a break from filming or something. I�m so sick of the smell of weed. You can�t go ten minutes in this house without smelling it somewhere, and as liberal as I am about the whole cannabis thing even I have a limit. And that limit�s when I feel myself getting high on the passing fumes. I�m sure my hair�s going to start smelling of it permanently soon.

Oh wait, I have done one fun thing. I went into Manchester this afternoon to meet up with Becky for a while � we went off for a drink and then bought ice creams and ate them sat in Piccadilly Gardens, along with the other three billion people who should damn well have been at work/school. A single into Manchester now costs �2.50. Why don�t I just roll over so First Buses can shaft me more easily? And the reason it�s so expensive (despite First Buses being robbing bastards) is because it insists on going through Salford Precinct, even though no one ever gets on and all it does is give the dirty hobos that live outside the chance to leer at me whilst they�re swigging out of their lovely brown paper bags. They should bring the stocks back for that place, it�s such a total scumbucket.

Every time I get round to reading the Postsecret website update, I have an urge afterwards to write an entry and tell you all of my secrets. I�m horrifically stupidly honest in this journal, possibly too honest sometimes given that my friends could just stumble across it one day, and they don�t know half of the shit I write about. I still have a lot of secrets though, and I�d probably feel better for writing them down and getting them out of my system but I never do. Mostly it�s because I don�t think they paint me in a particularly good light� in fact I know some of them don�t, and I care too much about what you all think of me to risk putting them down in writing. Part of it�s because I haven�t told anyone them, and I think dragging them out into the open would require a lot of energy. And a small part of it�s because having secrets feels safe. Knowing that there are things people don�t know about me makes me feel oddly secure. Having someone know every single little thing about me would make me feel vulnerable and claustrophobic and predictable. I think maybe everyone should have at least one secret. But I also think I should learn to trust people more. Hypno told me incessantly that the reason I kept a diary was because I had no one to talk to.

Lise: Okay, I�m gonna have to go now, it�s getting late.
Me: Okey doke.
Lise: God, it�s quarter past 11, how did that happen?
Me: God, you really do need to go to bed as well, you�re at work at 7.
Lise: Don�t you dare say that thing your gran always says. I can just tell you�re dying to say it.
Me: I wasn�t even thinking it!
Lise: Yeah right. Go on, say it�
Me: �It�s the hours before midnight that count.�
Lise: Well clearly my half an hour�s gonna to be the best night�s sleep ever then.

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