I've ever not blogged since I started.

Err, right, what's been going on?

I have, like, no news, apart from I got a bumper crop of Christmas pressies and they were all ace. I got some booze in a shoe. A shoe! And some revolving optics (thanks Chaunce) and his folks bought us a stereo. Yes, a proper no shit sony stereo and they even made sure they got one that could play tapes. And I got jewellery and undies and silky nightwear and a new coat and er, a blender, and oh all sorts! ALL SORTS! It was good. It was a super festive brilliantine type thang. Aces.

New Year was also great because we drank champagne cocktails and were silly, although Chaunce evened up his raging boozeventure by spending yesterday putting up shelves whilst listening to Radio Two and drinking tea. Don't tell him I said that.

I think I will remember 2005 as the year I tried a lot of new things and discovered I love love loved them, sometimes to my utter amazement. A few examples (in alphabetical order) :

Artichoke
Being a part time student
Cafe Rossi
Chauncey
Living alone, alone, alooooooooooone
Nick and Nora Charles (and Asta)
Pinot Grigio
Pesto
Streatham
The Tindersticks
Working here

And lots of other things besides that are too rude/boring to print in a family blog.

In 2006 I want to move house (oh for the year when that is NOT one of my rezzers); decide what size I am once and for all (today I am wearing a too small size 12 top and too large size 16 trousers. I know this would suggest I am a size 14, but I'm not); do well at Birkbeck; enter some writing competitions; manage my time better; get more sleep; work more efficiently; listen to more music; take a holiday and so on and so forth.

I would say I'll come back this time next year but it seems 20six might be dying so maybe I won't be able to. I'm not sure what to do with all this crap I've been spouting for the past two and a half years - will it just vanish? Egocentric fool I may be, but I hope not... 20six has healed a lot of hearts - you only have to look around to see people stronger now than they were when they arrived. And it goes on. It's a support network. People pool their experiences and their advice and somehow it makes things a little more bearable. And that's to say nothing of the engagements and the babies. Why do people blog? Because falling over in public is okay when you can write it down. Everything is okay if you can make it into a funny story someone else can laugh at. I think it is, anyway.

If you receive an email begging you to be bridesmaid for an Easter wedding, do you reply:

a) I can't afford to buy a bridesmaid's dress...
b) I hate the idea of adult bridesmaids and you know very well I always have.

or

c) OH MY GOD?! REALLY?!! Yes, I'd love to! Oh, I'm so flattered!

Why have I said that? Why God, why? I am going to look like a plum.

half an hour late for work this morning. Aaaaaaaaaargh! Why can't I haul my sorry ass out of bed in time? I am useless. I'll not do it again for at least, ooo, a fortnight. That's got to be do-able. I think I need to go to sleep at around 10ish if I want to get up about 7. WHO GOES TO BED AT TEN O'CLOCK?And anyway, how would I get to sleep? My mind is fucked from years of staying up late watching trash on Channel Five and eating sweets at 3 in the morning. Bah.

We had a surprise visitor last night. Let me tell you an important life lesson: always accept drop in guests, because they will accidentally lead you to brilliant pubs you never would have found in a zillion years. We found a lovely pub! It had a dog in it! I possibly drank a bit too much! The bar man was mental! It's a ten minute stagger from my flat! Huzzah! Also we walked trhough a bit of Streatham I'd never seen before, and it was awful nice. I suspect the rents round there might reflect it though, thinking about it in the cold light of morning. Also, there is no way we can possibly move in, say, the next nine months because we. are. skint. But we are together, so who cares?

I started this post in a right mood, but I feel a bit better now. Aaah...

I think the problem is that I was a little bit worried about work I hadn't wrapped up before Xmas and stuff I needed to order/file/create etc but then my boss hasn't been in and it's been very quiet so I've done it all (er, well, slmost.) So rather than have a niggling 'oh dear, I must find out where I can get hold of a heavy duty stapler before term starts' or 'how the hell am I going to enter all this data before anyone notices I haven't been doing it for a term' or 'shit me I've got over 700 emails to reply to' worries, I'm sat here stuck with the big worries like:

OH MY GOD I'VE GOT NO MONEY!
OH MY GOD I'M SO FUCKING FAT!
OH MY GOD MY FAMILY IS DRIVING ME CRAZY!
OH MY GOD WE LIVE IN A BEDSIT!
OH MY GOD WHAT IF HE LEAVES ME?

Which is a) stupid and b) annoying. Why does the unoccupied mind make up such dross? Stupid brain.

(Is it because the brain has been beaten with several rounds of booze and cakes and no sleep since December the 21st? Do you think? Do you think it might be?  OH MY GOD I'VE GOT NO WILL POWER! And so on and so forth.)

Seven Things to Do Before I Die

1. Spend 40 days and nights sober.
2. Go to New York.
3. Get married.
4. Win a literary prize (what?)
5. Have a dog.
6. Own property.
7. Bring up a child/children. Not necessarily expel them from my own body, you understand.

Seven Things I Cannot Do

1. Ride a bike.
2. Have 'just the one.'
3. Get up in the mornings.
4. Sing.
5. Stop bloody blogging.
6. Help feeling jealous of everybody/everything connected to my man's past.
7. Wait to go home.

Seven Things That Attract Me to Blogging

1. I enjoy the quality of the writing in other blogs - they cheer me up and make me laugh.
2. I am funnier written down (possibly.)
3. It forces me to write if I know I have readers.
4. Falling on the stairs at Streatham station is not so bad if I can write it down. (I fell on the stairs - it was the worst most embarrassing thing ever. Even worse, my esteemed colleague didn't laugh, which made it seem like I was the sort of person who often falls over and has to be helped up.)
5. The men! (ahahahahahaha!! ahahahahahaa!! hooooooo... look it's all been a horrible coincidence.)
6. If I'm blogging, I'm not working.
7. It gives me the ability to see I really have changed, even if I don't feel as though I have.

Seven Things I Say Most Often

1. Christ!
2. Bugger.
3. Vodka and lemonade, pint of stella and a packet of peanuts please.
4. Holy shit, where did you lean to do that?!
5. No, Streatham is ACES.
6. Don't you dare fucking stop...
7. Amenable (but only lately. I just can't stop. It works it's way into every sentence.)

Seven Books That I Love

1. Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit – Jeanette Winterson
2. 1984 - George Orwell
3. Fear of Flying - Erica Jong
4. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
5. Other stories and Other Stories - Ali Smith
6. Fire and Hemlock - Diana Wynne Jones
7. I Want - Nell Dunn (with Adrian Henri)

Seven Movies That I (would) Watch Over and Over Again (if I could be arsed...) 

1. The Thin Man
2. Withnail and I
3. Rebecca
4. Oliver!
5. Brief Encounter
6. The Sixth Sense
7. Truly, Madly, Deeply (well sorry, but I would.)

Seven People I Want To Join In Too (although they've probably been asked already.)

1. Chaunce: Because choosing 7 films will make his brain explode.
2. Dippysea: Because then I can nag on at him to do the seven things he wants to before he dies.
3. Katey:Because it'll take her mind off work!
4. Daisy As above.
5. 'boon Because he hates these damn things.
6. Queener! Because secretly she's desperate to blog! Desperate!!
7. Hyper-Conscious: Cos if he can be arsed to do it I know it'll make us laugh.

I saw two foxes at lunchtime trotting across campus bold as anything. How come foxes still look sort of mystical even though they're city vermin? Who knows.

I am seeing an old college friend for brunch in Streathers tomorrow as she's in Camberwell for reasons known only to her. I haven't seen her in about nine months and we just had a rather confusing phone call where she thought I was accidentally calling La Babouin by the name of my Uni Boyf, because my esteemed colleague is thoughtless enough to bear the same moniker as my university boyfriend. (They are not both called Monica.) So then I had to explain that no, actually, since she'd last seen me there'd been rather a turn around in circumstances. Rather a turn around. I am quite excited to see her and explain. It has been a while since I've been able to indulge in pure boyfriend drivel speak without watching the other persons eyes glaze over.

Then I'm seeing Uni Mate before London Loves which I am stupidly ridiculously excited about because I love her and I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be her friend again after the circumstances in which we 'broke up.' And The Hannahaha is working tomorrow so she might pop over and see me for a swift half too, which would be super. And then if he's not got too drunk Chaunce will come and meet us and that will be a lovely day enough already without seeing my other mates and going to London Loves on top of it.

And it's Friday today, wheeee! I'm in quite a good mood. Maybe because I fell asleep at half eight last night and slept right through. Mmmmmm, precious sleep.

I am blogging from an internet cafe because I bought an hour for 75p and now I'm like, oh, I had two emails to reply to and the money is in my bank... so... errr...

I'm off work sick. I actually was sick on mon and tues with an upset stomach (and discovered how to gmail from my phone, swanky) and then I took yesterday off to recooooperate but generally spent the whole day lying in bed feeling upset. UPSET! I think it is January, and anniversaries I don't want to think about and the feeling of 'come on, come on, next adventure!!' that is being held up by money, as usual. Cos I ain't got no fucking munny. Only I have. So.

If you lay in my bed with the curtains open you can pretend you're in a park, and this made me feel a bit better, you can lay (or should that be lie? I am plumping for the one I do the most of in my bed) there and look at the planes and birds and shit - I even took a picture:

Then I went and sat outside and read all three of my library books (I got out some Ali Smith short stories and Beebo Brinker. Let's face it, in every way apart from sexually I'm a raging lezzer - I swear the girl behind the desk winked at me) and watched the squirrels and wondered where the fox was. Thus:

There is actually a window that looks out on to this view but you can't really see through it from the bed. Anyway, I thought I should get some fresh air. I have two windows in my bedroom for the first time ever since I left home. Also I have the biggest bathroom now since I left home. So why do I want to move so much? I think because it is my flat, that I found and it was a big first for me. And now someone else lives there and it's a bit like, we should have somewhere special for our special-ness, not just a rubbishy old flat I've already soiled (not literally.)

Do you know what? I didn't realise I was upset about that until just then. So, 20six to the rescue of my mentality again. I guess we really do need to move out, even though it is impossible right now. But then I thought living alone would be impossible. And getting off with Chaunce would be impossible. And getting on the Birkbeck course (I missed my first class this term last night - ulp) would be impossible. But I still did it all. Yay!

I feel a bit guilty I have missed almost all of exam week at work. But I really have been no use to man nor beast. I will go in tomorrow. What? I will!

Anyway, seeing as this is a photo blog all of a sudden, here is me looking a bit plumular in that bridesmaids dress. It ain't that bad, is it? (The dress, not my "mingadingding, hey! let's not wear make up or wash our hair cos we're a bit ill" - face.)