It took a cup of coffee to prove that you don't love me
19.03.06, 6:35 pm

Before I get started: you�re all so very fantastic, and I really, really appreciate the support you�ve given me. I wish I had better words to describe how much it all means. I also got an email from a random stranger, who reads this thing regularly, and that was incredibly touching as well and I�d like to say a massive thankyou to them. I�ll stop rambling now and get on with the entry, but you all rock.

There�s currently a load of bills up on the fridge, and I apparently owe a total of about a hundred quid. I hope people aren�t expecting that money any time soon, because I don�t have any. In fact, I�m going to check my bank balance right now and share it with you, so that everyone can be a part of the misery. Wait one second whilst I log into Natwest. There we go: I�m currently �1347.04 overdrawn, with a �1600 overdraft limit. Taking off the hundred quid for bills and that, I�ve got about �150 to last me until loan at the end of April. By then I�ll have gone home twice and bought my sister something for her birthday, and celebrated the end of term with the kids. God, it�s all so depressing. And also vaguely worrying.

Cooking seems to be vaguely therapeutic at the moment, as last night it lifted the bastard tension headache that I�d had since the night before. I actually really like cooking � I made a shepherd�s pie for Mel and me as we never get to eat it due to Hannah not liking mash.

Don�t even get me started on Hannah at the moment � I could literally write a whole entry just listing the foods she doesn�t like. She doesn�t like potatoes or cheese or bread or carrots or peas or burgers or chicken or fruit. WHO DOESN'T LIKE BREAD?? My GOD. Her diet pretty much consists of pasta and Coke, which is why she�s anaemic and looks like she could keel over at any second. My brain�s just flashed back to a memory of Becky and me sitting on Becky�s bed, and me having a big Hannah rant after the whole birthday meal fiasco and Becky gently saying, �Hol, it�s okay, Hannah isn�t the root of all evil.� And no, she isn�t, but she can be bloody annoying sometimes.

I have to continue this rant - it�s long overdue. Hannah plays Kelly Clarkson all the time. You know, I probably wouldn�t mind Kelly Clarkson that much but I�ve heard her pissing album every day for the past year, ever since Hannah got her treasured copy from HMV and brought it home. And she has favourites! We get Since U Been Gone about five times a day, usually with Hannah crooning along. Some days she�ll really blast it too, for no apparent reason � one of these days was Friday night, just after I�d gotten back from The Rejection, which is why it�s on my mind and why I�m ranting on about it. Hearing that shit when I was trying to keep a grip on myself did not aid the cause. Oh, and she plays all of this through her laptop, not a proper stereo system (I own a reat good stereo system, which is why I get to be a total snob here), so it all sounds like Kelly�s singing down a really big tin can. Enough is enough; I can�t take the Clarkson anymore.

Hannah owns a total of four CDs: Kelly Clarkson, Girls Aloud, Christina Aguilera and Savage Garden. This kind�ve illustrates the losing battle we�re all fighting with her in general.

Anyway, back to my current existence. Rich came round last night and we ended up watching 28 Days Later, which turned out to be a better film than I remembered it to be. We tried to tempt Mel to watch it, as she�s a bit nesh when it comes to films:

Mel: I don�t think I�ll like it.
Rich: You will!
Becky: Why are you telling her it�s not that bad? You know it�s gross.
Me (ignoring Becky): You�ll love it. You need to watch it; it�s good for the soul� somehow.
Becky (to Mel): Do you want to see someone get their thumbs and push someone�s eyes right into their skull?
Rich: Oh she really does.

Eventually Rich chose to just pick Mel up, sling her over his shoulder and carry her through to the lounge, before deciding to lock her in the cupboard, with Mel protesting that she didn�t want to go in the cupboard; she wanted to finish making a cup of tea. I eventually took pity on her and let her out, but only after Rich had gone back to the kitchen to steal some of our food, seeing as I didn�t want to be locked in the cupboard too. It�s times like that you wish you were taller.

Think everyone�s a little bit scared of me at the moment, as the Paddy thing has completely messed me up. I don�t want to bang on about it forever, because I don�t want this diary to just be filled with my depressed what ifs or whatever, but I�m not the greatest I�ve ever been. I keep flipping between hating him for not being honest with me and not wanting to see him, to so very sad because he rejected me and he�s all I ever wanted. I keep remembering little things that we did together over the past week or so, that at the time half-convinced me that there was something there. I don�t care what he says; he feels something. It doesn�t matter though, not anymore.

I�m pretty much refusing to talk to anyone about it; preferring to slam things around downstairs and shout expletives at the kitchen in general because I can�t find the peeler, and then retreating up to my room when the sadness hits, where I sit with my guitar and sing sad songs to myself. I then lapse into the silence and stare at the wall for fifteen minutes, still loosely hanging on to the fretboard. I�m refusing to let myself cry about it all, which I know is completely stupid but this is me. I�ve got to see him tomorrow as we�ve got two lectures together, and even if it kills me I�m going to smile.

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