Sniff it in and inhale the non-greasy but still slightly tinged with a sordid edge smell of being connected to a world of the faintly unreal. Christmas holiday relatives are all good and fun to laugh at but I think sometimes the fact becomes apparent that they are all too real. They are fully dimensional standing, sitting and later on slumped, fully aloud and (in)coherent.
DAMN I just lost a chocolate button. That teeny tiny went flying! Flying wooosh! I am so obviously and shamelessly going to search for that later on.
As I may have mentioned I have the online to go to. M and I (ok, he did it and I trailed behind holding a lead) had to shift the computer about so that it would find a signal. We did this because I need to write an essay which is unthinkable without some slight internet related deviations. M is a deviant in himself and ultimately very rude and good. That some hot shit. But not in the bath ay. He is all long limbed and that is what I would like also thank you God of waking up with miracles. I would like to be fawn-like too yah. I think that is not too much to ask. I believe I asked for that for Christmas but I am still depressingly the same height and dimensions. Ooooooooo h I am thinking all hot remembering thoughts but I think I will save them up for this long and lonelyish week.
Back to the chocolate: I have a whole tube of buttons. I understood (inaccurately) that there would be lots of them in there chugging about merrily together. I thought they would be having a little button party within the cardboard. That was obviously a way off assumption because they are segregated into 7 packets in a 100g tube. I am mathematically unhinged but even I can tell that sum = 7 ANNOYINGLY TINY AND MINISCULE GET OUT MY MICROSCOPE PACKETS and far too much wasted plastic. I was sad when the supermarket decided it needed to individually seal wrap and price peppers. Surely the cost of the wrapping and plastic label and the time it takes to weigh them for the sake of a 2p variation out trumps a set price of 35p or whatever the fuck I am talking about stop me now they cost.
Sometimes I think that I will never escape ideals instilled into me during impressionable childhood years by my over zealous on certain issues grandmother. I believe I may be the only person in my street to fret that I am only filling the kettle up with the exact amount of water I need to use. Before my thankfully useful grip of reality prevailed I would pour tap water into mugs and then into the kettle. As if somehow the Wasting of my overfilling is going to have a negative affect on other people and oh my god maybe someone will die as a result of this!
M and I watched this OCD programme the other night and it showed a girl who did the hand washing 700 times a day thing. I am all proud and righteous because even though my hands are cracked and sore I can now touch something dirty i.e. just about anything normal like a bookcase or my shoe without having to wash them. My useful grip on common reality kicked in again. I am glad because I know I will never be like my grandma living in an obsessively sterile and freakish world of my own making.
Moving on! Belated Happy Christmas and Happy New Year. I hope a good time was had. Christmas shimmied in the usual exciting way. M got me an Ipod which is in the vale of greatness. However, it is thoroughly encouraging my spasmodic dancing. I got to laugh my head off at my dad and uncle Paul conversing. They are just so funny in solo but united they are a force too great for my brain to cope with. I laughed until it hurt and they were just chatting away in the manner they consider normal. I only ever refer to my uncle as Pablo for some unknown reason and my dad I mostly call Paradare for a known but very long reason only hilarious to myself. I don�t think they mind or notice my convulsed hysterics which progress with each sentence and topic and minute. I could listen in on them talking for hours and luckily Christmas time has many hours to spare.
They have both learnt how to send picture messages and my dad has been sending Pablo photos of his pints of beer and Pablo has sent him a lot of pictures of his local. Pablo wins for imagination because they are usually something like this:
1. The Pub
2. My Bike outside the pub
3. The bar
4. Some bloke in the pub
5. The bar again (very blurry)
6. Very blurry, carpet? wall? who knows
I got some astoundingly beautiful presents from my family and I love them so much (my family loads more than the presents).
We had a New Year�s Eve party which was excellent fun. I was not so robust with the beer and champagne and stayed up all night and did not have to be carried to bed by M at 1 in the morning like the New Year I try to forget. I did not miss my own party woo hoo! Fin was a star guest and danced like a champion dance boy. He is this odd character in my life because I have a huge ball of love for him which could be compared to the deadly way a fascinated child might love a kitten and want to play with it so, so much. Will I squash him to death? M drank more than I have ever known. I have known M a long time and I have known him to drink very much so this was a strange new. I also have a big ball of love for him which I can�t even begin to think about.
Thinking of big balls ! Also known as when popular culture goes too far: This morning I muttered �little lady testiclays� Then caught myself and wondered why I was spewing out Emily Howard �I�m a lady�. I looked at my plate and there were 2 little cherry tomatoes from a pasta sauce sitting side by side. My subconscious is in the gutter and I�m not sure how that makes me feel.
Got to go to sleep now because tomorrow is work (sob) and essay writing (BOOOOOOO)
Ink xx