You ever have those weeks where everything sort of masquerades as being okay, and you kind of think it is, and over the course of the week more and more niggly little things happen, and you still think it’s okay, and then one more tiny niggly thing happens and you get all fuck the world? Yeah. I had one of those weeks.
This is what caused me to end up at a regular people from hell party on friday night. Went for drinks after work, hated life, came home, drank Tanqueray, went to Jo’s house, drank the rest of a bottle of Tanqueray and somewhere along the line decided a house party in Camden was a good idea.
It wasn’t. It was full of the type of people who knew nothing and made inane smalltalk. I’m probably being harsh, but HELLO – that’s what I do. Mostly I just wanted to just sit on the roof and listen to my ipod (I had decided on Ben Gibbard could make it all okay by this stage) but people kept asking me why I was sitting on the roof listening to my ipod.
Needless to say, we ended up getting home at 7 am, and saturday was a write off, besides some TV catch up time. And I fell asleep at 9pm. Rock and fucking roll.
In other news, Robot Chicken is kicking me out of the house, we’ve come to some sort of a compromise where I said I wouldn’t move ’til after xmas. So not in the mood to move again. And it raises all manner of awkward questions. I am too old for lame-ass roommates anymore, but I need to save money for America. Because I definitely don’t want to be here.
Oh London, why are you so ridiculous?
Everyone seems to be a little over boys this week, myself included. I blame Venus being back with the forward move at the same time Mercury decided to go retro. It can’t signify anything good. Oh yeah – I’m also done with pretending I’m not some sort of crazy hippie. Obviously I am, if it’s a problem for you, then it’s your problem.
I’m all up to date with Tell Me You Love Me, now. It’s awesome, like an AM Homes book come to life (back when AM Homes wasn’t in the Richard and Judy bookclub) I’m enjoying how the characters become more flawed and ergo real, on a weekly basis. It’s also one of those makes you think, kind of shows – which is dangerous and can be incredibly depressing. But I’m still in thinking, figuring and transforming that understanding into productivity mode. I am glad I’m 30.