More Ladyfriend and teeth stuff
28.12.06, 7:24 pm
Thought I�d better replace my last entry ASAP, seeing as it was incredibly whiney/depressing. The drive to write more entries is still on, although I�ll probably only write one more before the New Year. The last entry of 2006 will have to be vaguely special too, I guess, and will therefore require more than me just finger-vomiting all over the keyboard. Ah well, no need to worry about that yet.
God, if I have to sit through one more bleeding sofa advert I�m going to end up gorging my brain out through my eye sockets. Every ad break contains at least one DFS, CSL or Land of Leather advert, or that one with Steve from Eastenders. When I�m rich and semi-famous, there�s no way I�ll be degrading myself by flogging crap sofas to the British public. However, the adverts for rubbishy 900-part magazines involving knitting, gem stones, boat building or model car collecting never ever get boring, not least because they remind you that you�re infinitely cooler than some sad specimens of the human race. I mean really, do people actually collect those plastic soldiers, paint them with tiny brushes and then display them on big white shelves where other people can see them? Because that sounds like the most humiliating thing ever. When Ladyfriend�s kids came over I was embarrassed enough to hide all my surviving Enid Blyton books away in drawers.
Al: Have you heard the version the Arctic Monkeys did?
Me: Erm probably. If they did in the Live Lounge on Radio 1 then most likely.
Al: Yep, and then Jo Whiley was all �Oh guys, wow that was just so amazing.�
>B>Me: Mmm, it�s like �Yeah great Jo, shove it up your arse.
Al: Yeah, put some shoes on, you bint.
Me: �Yeah.
I�ve just Sellotaped* my index and middle finger together to see what it�s like. Answer: cumbersome. Especially when it comes to typing� I�m starting to recess back to the two index finger bashing technique that my dad�s so fond of. Okay, I�ve peeled it off again now � the game got boring.
*Oh bless, I'm so obsessed with spelling and grammar that I gave Sellotaped it's rightful capital letter because it's a brand name. A better hobby needs to be sought pronto.
Ladyfriend�s apparently (and probably) going to be spending most of the week here, as her kids have gone off to their dad�s. The id part of my brain is telling me to just sit in my room with my dad�s acoustic until she eventually goes home; the super-ego part is telling me to go for broke and talk to her until I�m forced to like her. My ego part just contains a big flashing question mark. Wow, a whole year of psychology lectures and I actually did learn something. I like my brain. It does ridiculous things sometimes, but it does retain lots of random knowledge for me.
James writing this at the beginning of his email this morning cheered me up no end:� Sarah's boyfriend is arriving tomorrow - wish you were coming instead!� I�m a little bit concerned about how much he�s taking over my thoughts. I am not one for mush � at least not mush that�s out in the open for everyone to see � but I keep having to stifle the urge to tell random strangers about this lovely new boy that I�ve met. Ugh, boys are strange things. I guess this at least clears up any confusion as to whether all the talking about lesbians is turning me into one or not.
My dad�s just got back from work, and because our bin didn�t get emptied today is in a total grump. He�s just yelled at me to �sort my washing out because the place is a bloody tip�, even though my washing is still in the dryer and consequently not hurting anyone. In other banal domestic news, last night I had a dream that my new wisdom teeth took over my entire mouth and made everything wonky. This either means that I�m worrying about something or am incredibly vain about my teeth. Seeing as I was bloody relieved when I realised that it was just a dream, I guess it�s the latter.
Okay, Ladyfriend�s here. I am going to make an effort. I am am am. I�m going to be charming and engaging and funny and it�s going to work. God, I�m good.
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