'All we are....is dust in the wind, duuuuddde.'

Yesterday I FINALLY got new lenses and new glasses. I can actually see! OH HAPPY DAAYYYY! *flings arms towards the sky* (figuratively, of course)

Aghem. Then I met up with Jo and we pubbed, smoked, chatted and during the afternoon went to visit our old workplace. Good ol' Lennox Wood. How strange it was to go back there and to help out with feeding the clients/residents/whateverthecompanyhasdecidedisPCthisweek. The atmosphere there has just sort of...turned off. It used to be like stepping into a family home, a family who loved each other! But yesterday even the staff looked as if they might drop dead from exhaustion. It makes me sad to see some people in there with real potential and ability, not able to move on or improve themselves all because of circumstance.

I really must spend the weekend studying, I have a moc-exam on Monday and one more coursework essay to do which needs to be handed in on Wednesday.

'Dark have been my dreams of late.' The of late means the last bloody year. They're fascinating though so I can't complain.

I'm running out of money.

There's a Home

I've had rather a busy week: cake-making, essay-completions, partying and sight-seeing in Brighton, and drinking cheap wine and playing drinking games to The Mighty Boosh. My friends are fucking awesome.

I'm a bit hung-over and stuffed with food so all the blood has gone to my tummy and liver and there's none left for my brain! Poor little brain! That should excuse the lack of social commentary and psychoanalysis in this post.

There's a spider living in my kitchen. His name is Boris and he wears boots (and there we were thinking it was only fairies). He scares me and we are not friends.

'All that we hope is that when we go
our skin
and our blood
and our bones
don't get in your way, making you ill the way they did when we lived.
There is a place, a place in hell
reserved for me and my friends,
and if ever I wanted to cry then I will
because I can.'

'Pour some sugar on me'

Everyone should read Ask the Dust. Everyone. What a book. What a character. Go on, you know you want to.

I'm listening to cheesey eighties music again.

Porge is coming over in a little while so I suppose I ought to get dressed! We're going to make cakes and be ridiculous all day. That's what we do best.

Ta da...

Joanna went to Wolverhampton and all I got was this lousy title

I'm in Wolverhamptonshireford and Ewan's been sick...again! I think he's allergic to us. Well, not me of course. That's a physical impossibility - nobody can be allergic to pure joy.

The people are different up here. It's strange: there seems to be a different kind of boredom in the eyes of Midlanders when compared to Southerners. It's no more or less. Just different.

I shall enlighten you on more of my observational ponderings later as duty calls and there is afternoon tea to be prepaired.

Toodleypoo!

'Just hear this and then I'll go: you gave me more to live for, more than you'll ever know'

Shall I even go into it? That is perhaps for George's ears only at the moment! Should I care what his friends think? No, they have no idea about who I am or anything regarding the matter.


Well, now we've got the inevitable cryptic angsty part of the online journal over with I shall move on to the shallow, materialistic part...

I got an A on my speech which pleases me. I bought some leopard print hooker shoes to congratulate myself...oh come on, we all know I'd have bought them anyway! Whaaaat a bargain.

And now to the plans that nobody cares about...

I shall be gracing Wolverhampton with my presence tomorrow. Lucky bastards might see sense and give me a fanfair this time. If they know what's good for them. Can't wait to see the kids, my big bro-fo and sissy-poos again. Note to self: Stop changing words into non-words Joanna. Please.

Right now is the first moment I've had to sit down and eat something, hah! So off I go to cook!

'Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea cozy, doesn't try it on.'

I did stay awake for my lesson after all, everything is fine and dandy and I'm finally beginning to get to grips with US foreign policy. *yawn* x 300

Saying that, I'm finding it less dull than I thought I would but still...where are the plagues? Where are the Monarchs and the Knights? It's all wrong!

Ireland calls to me. Again. I do not actually think I can ignore it for much longer. There is a reason for me to go there and it's strong and passionate.

No, I can't pick just one subject and write about that! *pokes tongue out*

I realised that, for the last three posts I've made on this here bloggy, I've used Morrissey/Smiths quotes as titles. I shall break the cycle. (Thanks go to Billy Connolly for today's title.)

Mum doesn't like my pink hair. The other day there was an advert on the tv - some woman with deep, Autumn-red hair showing us the unquenchable joys of moisturising hair dye and having the guts to buy herself new shoes because of said fabulous hair. Mum said "Oh, isn't that a lovely colour" in her kind, old woman voice (she has several voices - she's a robot, you see). Then she moved her head slowly towards me, looked at my hair (which at this time could only be described as 'rainbow') and then looked, slowly again, to my face with a look of uneasy disappointment.

...you had to be there.

'You have never been in love until you've seen the stars reflect in the reservoirs...'

Colin Farrell in Miami Vice. Sweet Jehova. I should NOT, at my age, fancy a man with a moustache like that.

This is not a late night for me, it is an early morning. No idea how I'll staw awake during my lesson this-evening. Before I went to sleep I tried watching Dirty Dancing in order to keep me awake but I'm afraid, as with most fillums of that genre, it had the opposite effect. I give up trying to watch films that other women think I'll like simply because I'm the same sex as them.

Stephen Fry, please be my daddy. Or at least my uncle. I'd bring you tea in the mornings and tidy your desk! I'd make you really proud!


I might write something long, sarcastic and phsycho-analytical later when my brain wakes up but until then I'll let you fester in bubbling anticipation.

'It was dark as I drove the point home'

I MUST not put anything before my work. Ever. It is the most important thing. I am not sorry for this.

Last Saturday I took Ma'anit to see Fiddler on the Roof in the West End as a birthday and christmas present. She moaned from the moment I saw her but I managed to get her to enjoy the day and cheer up in the end. Women!

FACT: I have nothing interesting to write as I haven't been awake for long. My brain? Eet ees dead.