"That was such a lovely message. It's nice to feel important enough to justify that knowledge."
The last text I received from M

My hairdryer overheats after about a minute and then cuts out. When it has cooled down there is a little click and I know that it will switch on again. So the hair drying process is long and intermittent which is okay because I can�t be bothered with it much anyway so little breaks are quite pleasant. The thermostat must have broken because it glows red inside, smells like burning and then cuts out. At about half past seven this morning I thought why am I playing this foolish game and risking blowing my face/head off to dry my hair because NO HOUSEHOLD APPLIANCE SHOULD SMELL LIKE BURNING AND LOOK LIKE FIRE INSIDE. Worryingly it took me quite a few days to come to that conclusion despite my old hairdryer blowing up in my hands and scaring the crap out of me.

I have a pile of human rights and child abuse books to get through. Some of the concepts I have to try and get my head around are making my brain smell like burning and look like fire inside. I end up with pages of scribble and doodles (today I have drawn a family of cats - teen rebel cat is my favourite) and not much coherent thought or any answers. I don�t actually think there are any answers anyway, just lots of thinking and argument and realising that ultimately everybody is arguing for the same causes.

These are the books I am either reading or have recently finished:
* The Good Women of China, Xinran. I don�t know how true these stories are but this book made me cry.
* 50 Facts that Could Change the World, Jessica Williams. Engrossing but ultimately a big worldwide government bash (British supermarkets know more about their customers than the British government, the US owes the United Nations more than $1 billion in unpaid dues). Very good though if you need quick and straight forward work-related boredom elimination and have run out of rubber bands to ping about or targets to aim for.
* The Trouble with Islam, Ishrad Manji. Blunt and feisty.
* Improve your Eyesight, Jonathan Barnes. Big old quack (��people who have normal eyesight can often improve their vision far beyond the accepted standard of 6:6 (20:20, as was� all from investing in this book yesiree). However, I really can�t afford new glasses right now. Did some maths on the bus today; my whole outfit, including jewellery but not underwear, cost about �350. HOLY FIRES OF HELL! No wonder I am so poor! I am wearing all my money! I should stop looking at Victorian jewellery on eBay right this minute.
* The Way of All Flesh, a Celebration of Decay, Midas Dekkers. Very fast moving, clever and enjoyable but ultimately probably best not to be taken too seriously.

I went to see the Scissor Sisters at the Royal Albert Hall with my sister and Fin. We were at the very front, touching noses with the stars. The best thing about the whole evening was seeing Fin in his happiest shiny element. And the Yeti. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrar!!! � Spookily, as I wrote his name, the boy text me about a hilarious voice over in today�s episode of Sunset Beach. Maybe he is the devil?

Autumn is my favourite season. Spring is my least favourite. I love the rain smashing on the glass panes and especially on the skylight and the wind swishing all the different coloured trees but I do not love the rain and wind when I am out in it freezing and soggy walking or waiting about for public transport.

I almost forgot to mention my day trip to prove the extent to which I am a non-mentalist. In order to have reconstructive surgery (reconstructive surgery! Anyone? Anyone at all? No? That�ll just be me then) one has to visit a psychologist to show they are sound of mind and not on a bit of a radical spiv out (the medical term). She asked some quite obvious leading questions which were ok but the whole time I wondered whether my answers were what she wanted and what the best responses should be. For some reason I thought I was in an oral test. I accidentally used the words knotted, horrible and ugly in a sentence (I was put on the spot) and immediately thought noooooooo wrong words! I have failed. Even though you might think that, don�t say it you big moron. One look at her face confirmed them to be the most evil, loathsome and above all incorrect words to ever utter in a chat to a psychologist dealing with body image. It was difficult coordinating sensical speech with the running dialogue in my mind. The flustering was further exacerbated because I agreed that a group of medical students could stay in the room and I knew that as soon as I left they would be discussing it which made me feel paranoid.

Most cringey moment was when it moved on to relationships (as I knew it would). How does it make me feel? Do I feel exposed? What about with friends? Well, um I�m talking about my friends touching me up at eleven in the morning and it usually takes at least three beers for that kind of thing to get going. �What about when your boyfriend touches you?� How does one tactfully and politely phrase their answer? I love it when my boyfriend touches me? He can grope me as much as he likes as long as I get to do it back? Ho yeah baby, that�s some hot stuff? I�m quite confident and generally ok? Stop asking me questions designed for unhappy people and just show me the scalpel. I think a lot of the ideas were more relevant to those with low self-esteem and issues thousands of times more intangible than having a scar. E.g. people that self harm. Despite my terrible fear of saying the wrong thing she said I was someone that they would use as an example of how to be accepting and confident and that I had very accurate perception. So there! I bet a psychologist has never said that to you.

How easy is it to pass a good sense of perception test? I thought I was being interrogated in an oral exam and I still did well. I never lied once either. I was fairly vague on some areas and quite positive in all the right places. I don�t think that is cheating. She is arranging for me to have a chat with a lady who is an expert on scars and she will show me some before and after operation photos. This will be really helpful as I don�t want to look on the internet because I don�t know what is false and rubbish and I don�t have easy access to any medical journals.

Afterwards my mum and I walked around Hampstead and Highgate. Apparently my grandad owned a greengrocers on Highgate High street. She bought me lunch and a doughnut with multicoloured sprinkles on. Did I mention that it's my dream to live in a house or flat with steps leading up to the door? Like this:

My mum said "Well, that will be no good when you're in a wheelchair." Eh hello planet mother? She then went on to say it would be no good for a pushchair. No? so, i'll definitely be buying one then. All I need is approximately �750,000. My mum also said "This top makes my breasts look massive. Maybe it's how i'm standing?... [small reflective pause, softer voice]... oh no, I think it's just the huge tits inside it."

I made up an enormous batch of special fried rice and now I am going to see how much I can eat.

Boris is too big for his puppy bed

Inkysoso