All about the time when actually nothing happened and I realised that I don’t have any excuse, except for the fact that I’m crap, for not writing more often..

Oh hello sweet-online-version-of-a-diary-or-maybe-just-a-nice-little-collection-box-for-my-sweet-if-not-marginally-abnormal-thought-process, did you miss me? What a question.. Yet again though, I’ve found myself distracted by actual things and so haven’t found myself thinking, ‘hmm yes I can now go and kill some of this endless amount of free time to write more of my abstract thoughts and publish for all to see. Gee won’t that be fun.’ So um, what actually did happen? Well..

1. For starters my hair colour ran away. That’s a lie. I may have replaced it with another colour. Not that my original colour of kinda-murky-dirt-like-brown should be offended in anyway. I simply fancied a change. And now sport a wonderful head of dark-brown-reddish-purpley hair, that I keep forgetting about and catching sight of my reflection and nearly dying from a heart attack. Genius.

2. I saw possibly the funniest play I’ve ever seen in my life (written and directed by third years, one of whom is boyfriend of small mancunian child I shall be living with next year) – The Gradual Decline of a Previously Tight Family Unit in the Face of Economic Hardship: A Comedy. It was hilarious. In a kind of ‘I’m going to be sent to hell for laughing’ sort of way. Quotes include – “How’s your down’s syndrome today love?” and “you didn’t invent the fridge.” “I did. I spent three hours drawing it with a pencil in me mouth” Delivered by the limb-less child ‘Biff’ and his sister ‘Jess’, who doesn’t actually have Down’s Syndrome. As I said, I’m totally going to hell.

3. The housemate had a birthday. And we all turned American and drank punch with plastic cups. And sat around and played cards. And town was also pretty awesome, until my chips turned suicidal and threw themselves down the bus. Sad sad times.

4. Oh, and I’ve made a new friend. The seagull that lives outside my window. I figure that, despite the fact that I really really am not a fan of birds, the fact that he’s sitting out there honking at all hours of the day (and night) and refusing to allow me sleep, we should totally be friends. His name’s Gerald. And he says hello. Well, he might be saying hello. He could also be choking. Is it bad that I can’t tell whether Gerald’s choke is a greeting? Oh dear..

So, yeah, you’re right, not that much really happened. And I’m officially the biggest loser from loserville who can’t even manage to write every now and again. And is more than a little bit strange. Bollocks. Doesn’t that just suck.

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