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ravenWell, I'm nearly done and dusted. My stuff's all neatly arranged, and I've even discovered something to wear that hasn't been requisitioned by the Asgard. My mother took exception - "How long have you been wearing those jeans?"
"A week," I said (it's been two days).
"They're providing a medium for bacteria!"
"Of course." I nodded. Seriously, she doesn't like them 'cause they're ripped. I like ripped jeans. Nothing rips like denim. Although - on that drama workshop day, Rebecca Odedum (groan) was wearing jeans she claimed to have ripped herself. I could tell. People, if you're going to take the grunge route (comme moi) please, please, don't take any pair of jeans that comes to hand, particularly a pair of glittery bootleg ones. Think about it. I'm very attached to my own jeans. The rips provide convection currents.
Should think about eating something now, I think. I haven't eaten all day - forgot completely, and it's half ten now. I've got to finish putting my bag together - phone, purse, keys, books (I got Good Omens, happily). Anyway, this will be my last entry for the next few days, and while I will keep a paper diary, it ain't the same thing, 'cause of you folk.
Just occurred to me I haven't even said why I'm going to London. It's because Pedar has to go to a conference about endometriosis. In the House of Commons. I find this utterly surreal. I want to him to speak, because then he can say he's spoken in the House of Commons. He says it's all very amusing. I'm glad he thinks so. He seems happy about this - asked me earlier if I had a book for the journey, which I do, and informed me that sadly, he had not. I think I'm going to try and make him start His Dark Materials.
And one more thing - I chose to use this icon for a very particular reason. Having browsed the Dope and Google News for a short while, I have decided Senator Rick Santorum deserves a sharp, well-aimed kick in the balls. As well as being a close-minded arrogant prick, he's so damn... bitchy. Miaow.
"A week," I said (it's been two days).
"They're providing a medium for bacteria!"
"Of course." I nodded. Seriously, she doesn't like them 'cause they're ripped. I like ripped jeans. Nothing rips like denim. Although - on that drama workshop day, Rebecca Odedum (groan) was wearing jeans she claimed to have ripped herself. I could tell. People, if you're going to take the grunge route (comme moi) please, please, don't take any pair of jeans that comes to hand, particularly a pair of glittery bootleg ones. Think about it. I'm very attached to my own jeans. The rips provide convection currents.
Should think about eating something now, I think. I haven't eaten all day - forgot completely, and it's half ten now. I've got to finish putting my bag together - phone, purse, keys, books (I got Good Omens, happily). Anyway, this will be my last entry for the next few days, and while I will keep a paper diary, it ain't the same thing, 'cause of you folk.
Just occurred to me I haven't even said why I'm going to London. It's because Pedar has to go to a conference about endometriosis. In the House of Commons. I find this utterly surreal. I want to him to speak, because then he can say he's spoken in the House of Commons. He says it's all very amusing. I'm glad he thinks so. He seems happy about this - asked me earlier if I had a book for the journey, which I do, and informed me that sadly, he had not. I think I'm going to try and make him start His Dark Materials.
And one more thing - I chose to use this icon for a very particular reason. Having browsed the Dope and Google News for a short while, I have decided Senator Rick Santorum deserves a sharp, well-aimed kick in the balls. As well as being a close-minded arrogant prick, he's so damn... bitchy. Miaow.