It's a lonely planet joy

Last night at work after everyone was in bed, I went outside for a late-night cigarette. I sat there peacefully, listening to Hindermith and looking up at a sky full of twinkly stars and dark corners, when a shooting star (sorry Toby, meteor, hehe!) waved at me and swept itself from one edge of the sky to the other. It was massive and decorated with fire. I was open-mouthed at this point and then I saw another one that actually seemed to weave its way through the stars! And no, it wasn't a plane. T'was definitely a starry-type thing. Yes. It's nice when the sky speaks to you.

Over the last two weeks I have been to some little dinner parties, attented my parents' 40th wedding anniversary garden party and (abominable) pub dinner - '...can I just take this moment to draw your attention to my Father's face?', almost had measles, giggled, felt like I'm shit at my job, felt like I'm good at my job, not saved any money like I promised myself I would (again), watched Evil Dead (okay, I'm really getting into this horror malarkey now: I thoroughly enjoyed the film AND now have the incredible urge to paint my face like Linda (post-possession) every time I put my make-up on, listened to some fantabulous moo-sic, and so on and so forth and whatnot, etc. etc., ad infinitum.

What a stunner!

One day I might dedicate an entire blog post to everything that's wrong with Twilight. But I'm not sure I could find the time. 

'...while we're at it, I'm sick of religious people forcing their children to define themselves by their parents' faith. A four year old is no more a Christian than he is a member of the Postal Worker's Union!' - Marcus Brigstock