Of Cheryl Cole lustings and Super Ted
28.09.08, 2:10 pm

James is safely distracted by the awful Singapore Grand Prix, so I�m good to write a more cohesive entry than yesterday�s. He steadfastly refuses to let me put my slightly illegal work copy of Microsoft Office 2007 onto his PC, so I�m having to type this in something called Ability Write, which I do not trust at all. Sorry for any glaring spelling errors/grammatical cock-ups.

I�m also kind�ve writing this and watching Strictly Come Dancing on iPlayer at the same time, as I couldn�t see all of it due to X Factor. James has decided that Rachel Stevens is his favourite (read: fancies her). I think I might fancy her too, but she�s apparently not my ultimate. Yesterday morning I suddenly remembered a particularly mortifying moment from Friday night�s pub antics, where me and Rob were discussing Cheryl Cole vs Sharon Osbourne in the X Factor, and I loudly declared that I had an enormous crush on Cheryl. I then turned to James and, equally loudly, informed him, �If you ever want a threesome, then it can only be with Cheryl Cole or Eliza Dushku. Everyone else is barred�.

I went into town yesterday to meet up with Indie and Indie�s boyfriend, though I was a bit useless as I was so tired. We ended up in Marks, playing in the children�s toy area whilst Indie�s Boyfriend changed some Euros. Kids� toys are so lame these days. I looked for a Super Ted-themed present for James, but there was nothing. Super Ted is the frickin� bomb. And oh my God, I�ve just this instant found a Super Ted key-ring on Ebay. I am the bestest girlfriend ever.

Pretty uneventful day so far today. Me and the boy have been to have coffee, and then picked up some food for tea from Scummerfield. I then did the washing up and made the lunch whilst he lounged around watching fast cars go round in a circle. Things with the boy are exceptionally lovely at the moment, bar one kind�ve big problem, which was exacerbated on Friday night when we both got back home totally pissed. I feel weird writing about it, almost like I shouldn�t because it�s not my problem, it�s his, and it�s very personal, and if he found out I�d written about it he�d be beyond angry. On the other hand, this journal is now passworded, and I feel more and more like I need to write about it, not least because I�ve kept it as a secret for over 18 months now. Enough cryptic ramblings... I will probably write about it soon, not least because James appears to be finally doing something about it, and consequently I really will need to talk about it.

Nicole�s back at work at some point this week. Everyone�s flapping already, full of opinions on how someone should deal with family dying but unsure as to what to actually say to her when she arrives back in the lab. This must have been how my friends felt around me back in the day. I guess the key is to just be around if needed, and to make her aware of how much everyone cares. God, bereavement stuff is hideous. Why can�t everyone just live forever? Bar Jim Davidson, obviously. And maybe Amandroid. And Pol Pot.

Horrible horrible CT scan on Wednesday, which I�m already starting to fret about, despite it clearly being nothing to worry about. My dad and Amandroid are coming down to visit me next Sunday as well, which may prove equally horrible. And then the weekend after that I�m off to Newcastle to spend a weekend with Becky and Mel. This, I think, proves that there is a light at the end of every tunnel. Unless, like my father, you marry Amandroid, in which case there is only darkness. Some things are beyond the light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel saying.

I�m being summoned to watch a �really good� part of the race. Ugh.

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