CA split with MT- they have left their beautiful shared flat in Vauxhall with the bath in the cupboard- and now she lives with me. Practically, it means her bowls and mugs- which I used to drink tea out of on Mondays- have joined the mugs and bowls in the collection and now we drink tea out of them every day. Emotionally, for her I'm afraid to ask her what it means
Bunny has also moved in (not a word to be breathed again about the ill-fated, malevolent Titiania), bringing her boyfriend Scout with her.
I was walking to the supermarket with my basket, thinking about the perfectability of mankind when the wind blew the petals from the tree and they fell around me as I walked, enjoying the feeling of walking.
And I thought, this is good enough to write about. Or actually, this is good enough.
Everyone is happy as cats. A fox crossed the road in broad daylight. The daylight is especially broad, the afternoons are wam.
Heartbroken, I mean really.
I'd like to be someone else. I think I'll cut my hair today.
As you might guess I'm back at my parent's house for Sunday lunch and so back here, if only for a little bit.
It's been a while.
So I was arrested, it got in the papers and was on the ITN news. Ugly feminists ruin everything. Dad didn't know till he saw my photo in the Standard on the way home.
Then the week after I was on television as official feminist (not about the protests) and my old science teachers saw it and were proud.
I wrote a few journals after I left and chopped them up here.
Enjoy this. This is, for a few good days, exactly what you had in mind.
Nothing can be this good forever. Of course not, but it’s good for a while. When you describe your life it sounds impressive.
The past couple of nights everyone has stayed up talking until the start of the morning. Last night after seeing AC I got home and Cagney and Trots and Titania were sitting up talking in my bedroom. We slept in my bed and on the floor.
Ta ra Oasis, I'm off. But probably not forever.
New house is sans internet (and beds and coffee tables), for a while at least and I think I need to sit at the grown-ups table for a while anyway.
I'm sure I'll be back soon, where I else would I write? But in case I'm not, ta ra Oasis!
I signed the papers and paid the deposit on my new house. I'm glad to be getting on with things again, but I suppose nervous about living back in the real world like an actual 20 year old.
My most glamorous friend was in the gossip pages when Kate Moss knocked her over in Mo*vida the other day, because her boyfriend was talking to the friend's friend. They'd been flirting with Sir Philip Green. I it read in free paper, but she told us about it while we sat eating cake their kitchen (she's Leah's flatmate).
Today started too early and is ending too late. I spent most of it feeling various forms of uncomfortable. I'm behind with my university work, bored at my job. I didn't eat all day, I lost my train ticket, started my period early and painfully. The people on my course don't like me, and I don't like several of my friends. And tomorrow I have to do it all again, only this time earlier in the morning.
But none of it matters because today I read the Gilgamesh for the first time.
A man was masturbating on the train.
It was a crowded train, it was night time and I could either look at my reflection float above flats and houses and industrial estates and scrub, or not look at the man who was probably masturbating on the train. We were standing by the doors.
There was of course a shadow of a doubt.
He was a young man, maybe younger than me or maybe the same age, he had a shoulder bag covering his crotch, covering his hands which led presumably to his pockets where his right hand was moving up and down and up and down. His left arm was not moving.
No-one's very happy here at the moment are they?
Perhaps they should listen to The Smiths.
I'm ok. Still stressed but stress is normal. Thanks for hugs, huggers from my whinging post. Stressed and a little bored.
Tomorrow I will not cancel my plans- which is becoming a habit again- and I will go out with Leo and his friends to Heaven. I will answer emails and start using my new phone. I must not return to the cloister.
I am spending half my life at the moment waiting on station platforms.
The other night with the snow unmelting outside the station, I waited forty mintues for a train (only one train home an hour). Waterloo was freezing, I bought a cup of coffee in Costa and sat as deep inside the shop as possible, looking through the window to see when my platform would appear on the screen.
For the forty minutes a tramp sat opposite the counter, keeping up a constant rhythimic patter.
"Next please, ladies only this side. You are a brute sir. I'm worth 5 million"
"That's a lot"
I am very stressed.
I'd tell you why (I started to type it out), but it's so boring and just makes me angrier and more stressed with each word I type.
(Fruedian slip- I just wrote that as "with each word I stress")
So yes, more stressed with each stress I stress.
Stress stressed with each stress I stress.
I've been living back home for over a month now. Commuting an hour and a half each way to university and to work. Which is bad enough and I keep missing classes. But I also can't go out since everything is an hour and half away and the last train home is at 11.30pm!
So I was at work sheathing the scales from a sea bass with the back of a knife (a blizzard of scales like used contact lenses), when the fish leapt in my hands and came to life on the counter. But it wasn't a fish afterall; it was a woman with high cheekbones, dripping salt water and hauteur.
But she had no arms and no legs, because I had already snipped of the fins with scissors.
There are no buses and no trains.
My brother and sisters are off school. I am a woman in my twenties.
We walked down the road which is no longer a road and the houses aren't our neighbours' houses; another town had been built overnight. Dogs and babies who haven't seen snow are amazed. People talk to each other in the street. The world has changed. We walk in the middle of the road.