This features Amy quite a lot
12.12.05, 2:01 am

Every now and again I think about censoring out certain events, or not writing in this thing at all for a while, but I always come back after a couple of days with guns blazing. I seem to enjoy writing too much, and you�re all too addictive. Damn you all. As I wrote that I mouthed �A plague on both your houses!� and said the quote in my head in a dramatic voice, because that�s one of my favourite Shakespeare quotes for reasons I do not know. I have no idea why I just typed all of that, and consequently have just rolled my eyes at the screen and done that face where you push your tongue into the space in your mouth below your bottom lip.

I do that face a lot when Amy�s talking to me on MSN. As that makes me sound like a bit of a bitch, I�m now going to have to justify myself: here is a snippet of the MSN conversation I had with her last night - I have condensed the multiple lines into one long line, with |s to mark line endings. Just work with me here:

Amy: dan just been on phone | i sed im goin bed tired and my chest hurts wen i breath | he goes ok love u | i sed night | he goes love u | i sed night | he goes love u | i sed night | lol | he sed love u | i sed if ur waitin for me to say love u, ur gonna be waiting a long long time | then i sed bye and hung up | :S

Me: oh dear (my standard reply when talking to Amy; it�s all the encouragement she needs)

Amy: he wants me | then he don�t | he wants me | he gets pissed off so tells me its over | he misses me so wants me bk | :S | cant win! |

It goes on for about three screens� worth. It was worthy of the face.

Yesterday I didn�t get up until midday, and could have happily slept longer. I woke up vaguely hormonal (ie. very angry for no particular reason) and spent about an hour drawing the graph for my mouse write-up. I then got tired, lay on my bed and watched Eastenders, and one of the characters said something that struck a chord with me so I hit the standby button and decided to go to sleep.

Well, my brain wasn�t having any of that at all, the stubborn fucker. It decided to bombard me with really vivid memories of my mum � I swear this is hypno making me think more about this kind of stuff, and, you know, great for healing and whatever but it�s really, really happening too frequently at the moment. My brain was very much, �Hey, Holly! Wake up! Remember this memory! And this one! In high tech colour and sound! This one might not even be real but remember it anyway! And this one! Feel bad! FEEL BAD, DAMN YOU!� And of course, being hormonal, it completely kicked my ass. I screwed my pillow up in my fist and I gritted my teeth but I couldn�t hold it back, and I ended up crying. For five minutes too, which is quite an achievement for me. Fucking bastarding brain.

I then had to get up and get happy and go out for the Housekids Christmas Meal, so I played crazy disco music STUPIDLY LOUDLY and just about got there. We didn�t actually cook anything � we went to the nearest pub and got them to cook it for us. This is probably best, seeing as some of the housekids� idea of cooking is to whack the item in a cold oven and poke it every five minutes until all the icy bits have melted, where it�s deemed done. On the other end of the scale you have me, who always waits for the oven to heat up, always puts things in to soak before eating the meal and is completely PEDANTIC about raw chicken. Seriously, I scrub everything within a ten-mile radius of my chopping board and won�t let anyone even walk near me. Salmonella is just too revolting.

That reminds me: Amy texted me whilst we were walking up the hill to the pub with the following (it was before the above transcribed conversation):

"I think me + dan over for good. I�m devastated but he wouldn�t listen to me + just wanted to fit me in when he could. Cars meant more. Am I a bad person?"

I�m sorry to admit that the "cars meant more" bit made me laugh out loud (disclaimer: it was a bad thing to do and I'm honestly not an insensitive person), and then of course all the kids wanted to know what I was laughing at. And then one of them suggested that I write back "You�re better than cars!" so I did.

"Hey, I�m really sorry to hear that. You�re better than cars and he doesn�t deserve you. Hope you�re okay xx"

You know, looking at that written down I�m maybe starting to regret the cars bit.

Anyway, the meal went fine, except Becky was really depressed and quiet because she texted James (the ex) whilst drunk the other night, and he�s replied saying how much he�s missed her, and that things are really shitty for him and how he really wishes he could just talk to her, because she was his best friend as well as his girlfriend. He�s apparently writing her a letter about it all (BAD IDEA), which will come on Monday. Anyway, she was really quite miserable and really wanted to go to church, but didn�t want to go on her own, so I told her I�d go with her.

Cue intense gossiping in the front room as soon as we left the house. I don�t care; it was really important to Becky, so who cares if the scary semi-evangelical church makes me feel uncomfortable. It was quite strange� churches always remind me of funerals (oh, this entry is cheery), and them banging on about the amazingness of Christmas made my already shitty mood ten thousand times worse, because a lot of my Christmases have been shite. Still, it wasn�t too bad� okay fine, it was distinctly weird with lots of hand waving, clapping and swaying. All that stuff must be lovely if you believe.

Walked home, had a cup of tea, crashed Mel�s room and learned that Vicky�s granddad, who has a brain tumour, has had a seizure and may not survive. I guess a lot of people�s Sundays have sucked the ultimate ass this week.

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