Anne turned 30 on Wednesday. We had a stupendously tawdry day, starting with lunch and working our way through to an 0300 gatecrash of Cabaret Voltaire. My ears are still bleeding. My nipples hurt too; she pinched them both viciously on the dance floor when I showed more than passing interest when offered an E. She's also cleared out an attic of issues with her dad and gone
blonde to mark her momentous milestone. I like blonde.
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Am I the only person following Dragongirl's
New Year's Bang! Not. thread with some unease? God love the girl if the tale is kosher, but I've had niggling doubts since the first posting. Her subsequent attention-whoring does not help. As I say, if it's true I'll hold my hands up. And yet . . . and yet . . .
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I received formal redundancy notice this morning. Our funders haven't decided whether to support the project after nearly 10 years of success and 14 specific instances where we indubitably saved a life. They can't - won't - let it die. But the cv is being honed just in case.
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I love sighing puppies. What's your problem?