I'm going dancing next week! I'm very scared. I haven't danced properly since...ah, it was on the Christian party boat, and then they kept turning the music down, and we had about an inch of space each which you can't really get creative in. Am going with the lovely people from work, Leonie the social work student who is apparently anybodys after half a glass of wine, Danny the rave attending, skateboarding Christian hobbit, and Johnny, the pretty boy your mother would probably steal off you. I do want to go, because I haven't had a proper silly night out in ages. I don't want to go because my mood has been beyond foul lately, and a crowded bar is not the best place to have a 'what does it all mean' moment. I should stop listening to Beth Orton.
I have ignored Mr Unsuitable for nigh on six weeks now, and he's GAGGING for it. OK, I exaggerate slightly, but he has rung me three times to arrange a 'date'. Leonie says I'm the worst tease she's ever met. She's right, I'm apalling, if I was a man I'd have at least six illegitimate children by now.
My landlord has found out that le boyfriend has been staying over here rather a lot of late, and consequently sent me a very snotty letter, insisting that he only stay here once a week, with the permission of the others. This has hacked me right off for the following reasons:
* I am not 12
* How did he know? Somebody must have told him
* If somebody did tell him, why did they not tell me first that they weren't happy with the situation?
* Why can't he stay over more than once a week? Why why why?
Let's change the subject before a red mist descends. Has anybody seen Life is Sweet? I rediscovered this film the other night, and it's brilliant. Aubrey is my god, I want him to lay me down on his orthapedic mattress and feed me liver in lager