Mind Over Mutant

It's Friday evening. The night that the young, well-hung working masses pour into the bars and clubs and head-bang their cares away. They drink, they dance, they make eye contact across crowded rooms. Anything could happen. It's great to be young.

I will not be one of those Friday Night People. No. I will be here, at my desk, until at least 19:00. From here I will drive the hour home, collect another bottle of wine and go to my boyfriend's sister in law's house for the Trick or Treating I will have missed. Better late than never? Maybe not. My only saving grace at this point is the fact that I have not invested in a costume. I did go to Sainsbury's to buy a witch's hat but I left with no hat and an impressively expensive scratch down the side of my car. What is it with me and cars?

Speaking of which, tomorrow I shall be going to see a car. A potential addition to the metal graveyard that is my legacy. I'm not even excited.
I feel a little scared.

I have eaten half a chocolate loaf cake today. I have been in touch with Kate's people about getting her to release a statement about what she's eaten. It's coming people . . . it's coming.

I've been working on The Small Cat Diaries - I think it needs some photo evidence. I am planning some kind of permanent toy installation to keep Steve occupied. The furniture can't take much more.

Must busy myself. Must complete Friday night tasks. Must supply data to Scotts of Stow.

Yours sincerely,
Crash Bandicoot

The half of me that knows . . .

I have to say that it hasn't quite sunk it. That it isn't quite real yet. That I haven't really accepted it.

This is a tribute to my abandonment. A testimony to my singular existence. The friend who is half my life has moved to the other half of the world and by all accounts is having a great time! So these few words will be link to her - the news from this bit of earth to her bit of earth. Not forgetting of course, her intrepid partner in crime, Miss E. Godfrey who was crazy enough to go along.

I hope that this keeps the crazy monster that is insistent that you are missing something quiet - because Lady Let Me Tell You - there's nothing happening you should be scared of missing.

Sadly, it has taken some time to set this puppy up so there have been the first few precious weeks of loneliness missed. Good job really as all I have to report about them is the random bouts of crying and the general malaise. Oh, and the freshly painted living room. If there's anyone else out there who fancies coming to have a look at my handy work let me know!?

Hopefully later, I will be able to get Paul to post some exciting news about his gig last night - which I forgot to go to and then forgot to ask him about this morning. I am really sorry Paul.

Also, I have been in negotiations with the soon-to-be-massively-famous-Kate-Walsh and she has agreed to an exclusive column listing everything she's eaten. Although we may only get this pleasure once a week as she's so in demand these days.

I will also be posting the Small Cat Diaries - intimate and savage details of the lives of Steve and Tonic. I would include a list of everything they eat too, but seriously, who would want to know?

I'm sure that there will also be exciting added extras such as "I Don't Know What My Boyfriend Did Last Summer!" and "The Life and Times of Michael Baker" - but these wonders are yet to come.

Most importantly I hope that this will show how much I am missing you and how much of what happens here in Brighton is less exciting because you are both away.

But let's start as we mean to go on . . . .

Tonight, Matthew, I will be . . .

Watching Film 4 - drinking the half bottle of Rioja that I didn't finish on Tuesday and eating whatever is left in the fridge.

Oh the joy.