My sincere apologies for the delay in writing this email.
As requested I am writing an email about my life.
I am performing near or at expectations.
Currently my life involves getting up at 6.45am, getting ready for work and leaving my house at 7.30am. I get into work at around 8.00am where I go about my random tasks (speaking of random tasks, did you know that the guy who played Random Task in the first Austin Powers movie was recently put in jail for torture and rape? Who’d have thought! But I digress!)
My house is going fine. I appear to be very messy. It is such a burden to be both messy and a clean freak at the same time. I mean, I want things to be really clean but I don’t have the time (cant be bothered) to clean up!!
I am considering hiring a cleaner but have no idea how to go about it! I mean, do you think I just go and find a Mexican like they do in The States? (or the European Mexican equivalent……..Eastern European?)
I’m guessing I don’t give them a key, which means I have to be there when they are cleaning?….making awkward small talk…
“so how long have you been in a cleaner….?”
“do you miss the mother country…?”
“so that’s what the attachment on the hoover is for…!”
…the effort of that!!!
But living along is fun! I like it loads. Work is soul destroying but pays the mortgage so I cant complain!
How goes your apartment? And your life? We should meet up soon!
Apologies for the Dawson Creek thing…….liar!
Kindest of Regards,
Me: Just letting you know that CDG is coming over soon.
The Roomie: Oh cool. I had a text from a strange number earlier asking me to go for coffee if I was around. I think it might be that stalker guy.
Me: Oh really? How do you know?
The Roomie: Well I don’t – I didn’t reply – but it was written in the way he normally writes texts.
Me: *brushing teeth* Hmmm, well you lost a lot of number when your phone got stolen so it might be someone you actually like. Oh like that guy you went out with that time! You should reply.
The Roomie: No, because if it’s Stalker Guy, I’ve refused to answer his texts for the last six months, and if it is him, he’ll kick it all off again!
Me: But if it’s Date Guy, then you might put him off.
The Roomie: Hmmmm….
Me: Why don’t you ring the number off my phone and see if you recognise the voice?
The Roomie: No, because if it’s him, he might recognise my voice!
Me: But you’re ringing off a strange number, so it wouldn’t even occur to him that it would be you.
The Roomie: I don’t know…oh wait! Isn’t there that thing where you put a number into the phone number while you’re dialing and then you go straight through to voicemail!?
Me: *shrugs shoulders* *tries to stop toothpastey spit from dripping down chin*
The Roomie: I think you put in a ‘5’ after the first three numbers and then dial the rest.
Me: Mkay, what’s the number?
The Roomie: *calls out number*
Me: *dials* What’s the Stalker Guy”s name?
The Roomie: Aodhan
Me: Cool. Gah! There’s a computer voice! It’s telling me to do stuff! Oh God….uhm…Gah! *hangs up* So that didn’t work then.
The Roomie: Ah ok.
Me: So do you want me to just ring?
The Roomie: Yes please.
Me: *dials again* It’s ringing. Oh God I’m really nervous now.
The Roomie: Keep your toothbrush in your mouth…it disguises your voice!
Me: Ok. Wait hold on, he doesn’t know me!! I’m going…eeep!
Phone Voice: Hello?
Me: Gah, uhm Hello! Eh…who is this?
Phone Voice: Hello?
Me: *making wild gestures at The Roomie* Oh, uhm, God I’m sorry, I actually think I might have the wrong number.
Phone Voice: Who are you looking for?
Me: *don’t say Aodhan, don’t say Aodhan, don’t say Aodhan* Uhm….Ao….ah, Brian. I’m looking for Brian. But, em, this is the wrong number.
Phone Voice: *laughs* Yes it is.
Me: Really sorry about that!
Phone Voice: No worries, have a nice night.
Me: You too! *hangs up* Brian!? Brian. Brian!?? I panicked and went to say his actual name and then moved to the next letter of the alphabet…and came up with ‘Brian’!
The Roomie: So who was it!?
Me: A boy, so well, we’ve narrowed it down to a boy. Which isn’t that helpful. He sounds nice though, so maybe not Stalker Boy. He sounds D4ish, but Nice D4ish, not Knob D4ish. *does impression* “Have a nice night”. Right, that actually just sounded exactly like my own voice.
The Roomie: We probably should’ve put it on loud speaker.
Me: Yeah….that was a really terrible plan….
Discussing ways The Roomie could sneak alcohol into Electric Picnic….
Me: You could get one of those cute flasks from Urban Outfitters! Oh they have really pretty floral ones and you could just put your spirits in there and buy a coke or something when you get in there for a mixer.
The Roomie: Oh yeah, I might do that actually.
Work Chum: Or you can get one of those things you strap to your back!
Work Chum: You know, you strap the bag onto your back under your clothes. There are arm straps like a normal bag, but it’s fitted to your body and there’s a straw that comes out of it and over your shoulder.
The Roomie: Oh yeah my friend had one of them at a festival last year and we were all taking sips of rum from a straw – it was great!
Me: That is really great.
Work Chum: OR….you could hide drink under a hat.
The Roomie: Security might ask my to take it off though.
Me: Just cry and say you’re too embarrassed because your hair is disgusting and sweaty and you look hideous. You’re a girl – it’s believable.
Work Chum: Or say someone shaved part of your head the night before and you don’t want anyone to see.
The Roomie: Or say that I have cancer and lost my hair through chemo.
Me/Work Chum: *looking horrified* NO! You can’t!
The Roomie: Why not?
Me: Cos that’s just awful! And it’s too real!! And it’s an illness.
The Roomie: I could say I have alopecia.
Work Chum: GAH!!
Me: *covering ears* Stop picking real diseases! What is wrong with you!?
The Roomie: I guess I could just hide a small bottle of something in the crotch of my trousers…
Oh it’s a really nice day today.
Feels very autumny, which means the summer is on its way out and I can wear WOOL again….hurrah!
That fry-up The Roomie made me was really lovely.
I wish I had time for that every morning.
Although health-wise it’s probably best I don’t.
That being said, I did have chocolate for breakfast yesterday morning…
Oh there’s The Screen Cinema.
I’m so glad it’s practically in our back garden.
It’s so nice and intimate.
Oh! I must check when they’re showing Moulin Rouge – I never got to see that when it was first out in the cinema.
Ewan McGregor is so lovely.
Oh dear, that man is very drunk.
And propping himself up against that wall.
Too early in the morning for that kind of thing.
What’s he doing with his hands?
Urgh, hopefully I can walk by without him shouting something at me.
Dammit, he’s seen me.
And he’s turning to face me.
OMG THAT’S HIS PENIS!!!!!!!!!!!!
*jumps back and makes disgusted face*
*half-runs by penis-wielding drunk man*
*bus drivers waiting for their shift to start enjoy a chuckle*
I instantly regret having those sausages for breakfast…..
In the office….
Me: Casual Date Guy.
Work Chum: Yup, Casual Date Guy.
Me: Just Casual Date Guy.
Work Chum: Cos it’s so casual.
Me: Because it’s so casual
Work Chum: Just casual.
Me: So casual with the hanging out and the casualness and the being casual and the stuff. Casual Date Guy. So casual *thumbs up*
Work Chum: *thumbs up* Friend?
Me: *thumbs up* Oooo Friend!
Work Chum: *thumbs up* Football Friend!
Me: *thumbs up* Bwest Fwiend!!
Work Chum: *thumbs up* Awh Friend!
Me: *thumbs up* Your friend the footballer. Oooo Friend!
Work Chum: *thumbs up* Oh Car Friend
Me: *thumbs up* Ohhh Best Friends forever and ever…
*cue five more minutes of Inbetweeners references*
An example of two journalism graduates putting their wordsmithing abilities to valuable use…
How did this even happen!?
How did I get myself into this position!?
Everything had been going so well.
I was happy and comfortable.
I felt warm and safe.
And now there was no way out.
Am I really surprised?
I’m a walking disaster.
Obviously this was the way I was going to go.
No blaze of glory.
No great battle.
This is unreal.
I tried to untuck my knees from under the arm they were trapped beneath.
They didn’t budge.
“How did I even get them into that gap if I can’t get them out!?” I said out loud.
Oh God, I’m going to have to call the Fire Brigade to rescue me….again.
I’d have to sit here.
While they sniggered and chainsawed the chair in half.
Dying of starvation seemed like the better option in that moment.
I tried to move my legs again.
Urgh! This is ridiculous!
I refuse to be shamed like this.
Enough is enough!
I struggled and wriggled from side to side.
The chair was positioned in between my desk and wardrobe so there was little room for it to move.
But I didn’t give up.
I manoeuvred by body into an unnatural position.
And then thump.
I was on the floor.
I hopped up and dusted myself off, taking a quick look out the window to make sure no one had witnessed this recent bout of humiliation.
Thank God no one saw.
Nobody heard anything.
And I didn’t have to call for help.
No one had to know.
I could be embarrassment-free this one time.
I smiled with relief.
And then I sat down at my laptop and began to blog…
It’s tough, you know.
I’d even become a little cocky about my own abilities.
Four years of kissing just one boy makes you an expert.
An expert in kissing that one boy.
And possibly in any other boy who kisses exactly like him.
But not an expert in kissing as an art.
I’m off my game.
I automatically start in a certain way and then there’s a ‘gah’ moment when I realise that it’s really not working.
Not in this situation.
Not with this boy.
So I have to adjust my methods.
And not helped by that fact that I’m usually tipsy when it happens.
I don’t know where to move or what to do or what angle to work.
I have a system that I now have to abandon and start from scratch.
Left or right?
Oh so you do that with your tongue.
And your hands are there….already?
Why aren’t you hands there yet!?
Oh God, am I going to0 fast?
Am I being a slutty kisser!?
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?
*grabs the paper bag to stop the hysterics*
And this is just the kissing part.
This is supposed to be the easy part!
I hate being bad at things.
I have a horrible character flaw of trying for about 5mins to do something and if I’m not automatically awesome at it, I get unbelievably frustrated and I pack it in.
Obviously that’s left me able to do very few things well.
So far I have ‘eating’ and ‘sarcasm’.
I’m quite fond of kissing though, so I’d rather not give up in this case.
I’m just going to have to find someone I can kiss amazingly INSTANTLY.
Not much to ask, right?
Surely it’s not supposed to be this stressful….