(no subject)
29/12/06
No amount of words could possibly illustrate my unbridled delight when I woke up with tonsillitis this fine morning. In equal measure, words couldn’t begin to describe my ecstasy at standing in the freezing cold, pouring rain, for 45 minutes outside my office. It’s the best start to a day I could have wished for really.
The fact that I shall most likely be in bed for New Years, feeling like I have battered my throat to oblivion with a claw hammer, does not please me. I want to cry.
X
Mood: Not happy… Not. One. Little. Bit.
Music: The View, Regina Spektor.
28/12/06 (forgot to post this yesterday)
Yes, another faceless lie in the land of new_slang06. How could I possibly leave it until the New Year for another entry? Clearly I disregarded the fact that I would be at work when, well, nobody else is. Nobody is here to shout at me, nobody is here to patronise me as the ‘young lad’ that I am, and frankly, this is fairly boring. Is it wrong to strive for a decent argument to break up the day a little?
Christmas has been a standard affair, with little happening other than younger relatives tearing around attempting to keep older relatives…well…alive. Sadly, this usually revolves around keeping the house at the same temperature as the surface of the sun - thus, with any luck, the weight that I have undoubtedly put on through copious Christmas gluttony, will wilt and fade right off me. Who am I kidding…I wasn’t thin before Christmas, maybe I should join a gym or something. Who would have thought it possible to STILL have leftovers? They taunt me from my fridge man, Lord what I’d give for some fruit and vegetables, and maybe even the odd slim-fast. Actually, no to the latter - I’m not an idiot. Has anyone ever thought to tell people on the slim-fast plan that they aren’t ‘miraculously’ losing weight; they just aren’t really eating anything?
I received some thoughtful gifts. However for the most part, if you were to conclude what type of person I was from them, I am a chocolate munching monster who is in dire need of a shower. While the latter may be true, anybody who wants some chocolate - give me a call and I shall arrange a cargo shipment forthwith. I don’t even eat the stuff for God’s sake. I’m actually considering changing my name by deed poll to Paul Wonka.
Boxing Day (I STILL don’t know why it is called this) night was spent in the company of Matt, who reminded me that I am 23 next year (in only four months, oh Lord), and also helped me compile a list of New Year’s resolutions. Both of these things are daunting, and terrifying in equal measure.
New Years Resolutions:
1. Stop being a goon.
2. Learn to drive.
3. Get my own place.
4. Pass a degree.
5. Get a decent job.
6. Lose weight.
I’m sure we can all agree that these are not amazingly simple things to achieve, and I should probably start now on a number of them. Arguably, half of the things on the list I should have done ages ago. In order to pass number 5, I should probably achieve number 4 and number 2, and as a result, hopefully I’ll achieve number 3. Number 6 goes along with number 1, so we shall see how it pans out. As a fully paid up patron of the ‘glass half empty’ theory, I imagine they shall all go according to plan - provided they all occur on a month of Sundays, as a pig flies past a blue moon.
Still, a few fun things on the horizon - maybe I shall go to the four Envy gigs in January which would be a good laugh, I also may go and visit Verity in Leeds the weekend after next, that is of course, if she still doesn’t mind a turley on her floor. It all comes down to money, of which, I have been completely screwed out of by my work. Thanks guys, I hope you won’t complain when I can’t get to and from the office.
New Year’s Eve is still utterly plan-less, no doubt I shall drink my body weight and wake up in a tree or something, but frankly, nothing will ever beat the woman who shouted ‘Merry F***ing Birthday!’ at me, fell down, and then threw up on her shoes.
What a hero.
X
Mood: Apprehensive of next year, bored of the present.
Music: Amy Winehouse, The Shins (new album, not so legal)
No amount of words could possibly illustrate my unbridled delight when I woke up with tonsillitis this fine morning. In equal measure, words couldn’t begin to describe my ecstasy at standing in the freezing cold, pouring rain, for 45 minutes outside my office. It’s the best start to a day I could have wished for really.
The fact that I shall most likely be in bed for New Years, feeling like I have battered my throat to oblivion with a claw hammer, does not please me. I want to cry.
X
Mood: Not happy… Not. One. Little. Bit.
Music: The View, Regina Spektor.
28/12/06 (forgot to post this yesterday)
Yes, another faceless lie in the land of new_slang06. How could I possibly leave it until the New Year for another entry? Clearly I disregarded the fact that I would be at work when, well, nobody else is. Nobody is here to shout at me, nobody is here to patronise me as the ‘young lad’ that I am, and frankly, this is fairly boring. Is it wrong to strive for a decent argument to break up the day a little?
Christmas has been a standard affair, with little happening other than younger relatives tearing around attempting to keep older relatives…well…alive. Sadly, this usually revolves around keeping the house at the same temperature as the surface of the sun - thus, with any luck, the weight that I have undoubtedly put on through copious Christmas gluttony, will wilt and fade right off me. Who am I kidding…I wasn’t thin before Christmas, maybe I should join a gym or something. Who would have thought it possible to STILL have leftovers? They taunt me from my fridge man, Lord what I’d give for some fruit and vegetables, and maybe even the odd slim-fast. Actually, no to the latter - I’m not an idiot. Has anyone ever thought to tell people on the slim-fast plan that they aren’t ‘miraculously’ losing weight; they just aren’t really eating anything?
I received some thoughtful gifts. However for the most part, if you were to conclude what type of person I was from them, I am a chocolate munching monster who is in dire need of a shower. While the latter may be true, anybody who wants some chocolate - give me a call and I shall arrange a cargo shipment forthwith. I don’t even eat the stuff for God’s sake. I’m actually considering changing my name by deed poll to Paul Wonka.
Boxing Day (I STILL don’t know why it is called this) night was spent in the company of Matt, who reminded me that I am 23 next year (in only four months, oh Lord), and also helped me compile a list of New Year’s resolutions. Both of these things are daunting, and terrifying in equal measure.
New Years Resolutions:
1. Stop being a goon.
2. Learn to drive.
3. Get my own place.
4. Pass a degree.
5. Get a decent job.
6. Lose weight.
I’m sure we can all agree that these are not amazingly simple things to achieve, and I should probably start now on a number of them. Arguably, half of the things on the list I should have done ages ago. In order to pass number 5, I should probably achieve number 4 and number 2, and as a result, hopefully I’ll achieve number 3. Number 6 goes along with number 1, so we shall see how it pans out. As a fully paid up patron of the ‘glass half empty’ theory, I imagine they shall all go according to plan - provided they all occur on a month of Sundays, as a pig flies past a blue moon.
Still, a few fun things on the horizon - maybe I shall go to the four Envy gigs in January which would be a good laugh, I also may go and visit Verity in Leeds the weekend after next, that is of course, if she still doesn’t mind a turley on her floor. It all comes down to money, of which, I have been completely screwed out of by my work. Thanks guys, I hope you won’t complain when I can’t get to and from the office.
New Year’s Eve is still utterly plan-less, no doubt I shall drink my body weight and wake up in a tree or something, but frankly, nothing will ever beat the woman who shouted ‘Merry F***ing Birthday!’ at me, fell down, and then threw up on her shoes.
What a hero.
X
Mood: Apprehensive of next year, bored of the present.
Music: Amy Winehouse, The Shins (new album, not so legal)