54. 16/11/82.
You know the war years were shit (and I don't remember too much of peacetime, really, but I've never really lived in peacetime so) but the one good thing about it was that people (adults, at least, to use the term loosely) realised there was bigger and worse shit than people maybe fucking up their personal lives or having their personal lives fucked up for them. Now that people aren't dying left and right though apparently it's totally fucking decent to be a bitch about other people and their lives.
I don't even get it, I've been a bitch to people, I won't lie about that, but talking about total bloody strangers and their lives like it's any of your fucking business just reminds me of Hogwarts-age bollocks and you'd think we could move the hell on from that. Doesn't look like it, though. Have to suppose people like that just have no fucking lives of their own or their own lives are so fucked up they need to criticise someone else's. Either way that means you should be paying more attention to yourself than a total fucking stranger.
What in Christ's name is the world on, that's all I'm wondering, it's like someone put amphetamines in the water, everyone's fucking freaking out.
Anyway, this QW writer wrote this article on U-21 and shite and namedropped me a few times, bit surreal really, of course it was a matter of time (I'm joking obviously). Interesting bit of Quidditch history I have to say, from Llewellyn who always seems to be enjoying himself a little too much when he writes but whatever. It's still taped to my wall, just to remind me that THIS IS REAL.
Season's going great but if you don't know that you're living under a rock somewhere. Had a good match against Tutshill, Brock had a great catch but that goes without saying these days. Coming up, half my family's going to our match against the Harpies just to see me face down Jo Stanton Bones and Odette like it's some sort of thing. Don't know why they'd possibly think that.
I have an appo
Just about out of things to say, I've got to get ready for a thing. Later.
I've got an appointment with Nate Ketteridge at five or something. Drinks at his office. This is weird. He's not representing Fancourt anymore, she said, so no conflict of interest or what (I don't know how they're so bloody happy together, it's a little sick and I've never managed that, not really, oh fuck, never mind). I can't read him. I can read Jo bloody 'I drink because I am' Stanton but he's just a cheerful stone wall and I can't tell if he's going to rook me or what. Nutcombe seems to trust him so I might as well, but we'll see.
Grandpa Rory keeps coming over, I'm worried he'll come over when Teagan's here or something, I don't care if he runs into Ingram (I know what he thinks of Weasleys though) but the last thing I want is him tearing into me because I'm dating someone who's ALSO A HALFBLOOD because he's in denial that I'm not pure, even if I've got the scars to prove it. Good Chaser, must be pure. It's an arsehole thing but I can't make myself tell him to fuck off. He gets me. More than Uncle Finbar does.
Whatever. We'll see. It's all going to turn out.
Fuck. Optimism's weird.
I don't even get it, I've been a bitch to people, I won't lie about that, but talking about total bloody strangers and their lives like it's any of your fucking business just reminds me of Hogwarts-age bollocks and you'd think we could move the hell on from that. Doesn't look like it, though. Have to suppose people like that just have no fucking lives of their own or their own lives are so fucked up they need to criticise someone else's. Either way that means you should be paying more attention to yourself than a total fucking stranger.
What in Christ's name is the world on, that's all I'm wondering, it's like someone put amphetamines in the water, everyone's fucking freaking out.
Anyway, this QW writer wrote this article on U-21 and shite and namedropped me a few times, bit surreal really, of course it was a matter of time (I'm joking obviously). Interesting bit of Quidditch history I have to say, from Llewellyn who always seems to be enjoying himself a little too much when he writes but whatever. It's still taped to my wall, just to remind me that THIS IS REAL.
Season's going great but if you don't know that you're living under a rock somewhere. Had a good match against Tutshill, Brock had a great catch but that goes without saying these days. Coming up, half my family's going to our match against the Harpies just to see me face down Jo Stanton Bones and Odette like it's some sort of thing. Don't know why they'd possibly think that.
I have an appo
Just about out of things to say, I've got to get ready for a thing. Later.
I've got an appointment with Nate Ketteridge at five or something. Drinks at his office. This is weird. He's not representing Fancourt anymore, she said, so no conflict of interest or what (I don't know how they're so bloody happy together, it's a little sick and I've never managed that, not really, oh fuck, never mind). I can't read him. I can read Jo bloody 'I drink because I am' Stanton but he's just a cheerful stone wall and I can't tell if he's going to rook me or what. Nutcombe seems to trust him so I might as well, but we'll see.
Grandpa Rory keeps coming over, I'm worried he'll come over when Teagan's here or something, I don't care if he runs into Ingram (I know what he thinks of Weasleys though) but the last thing I want is him tearing into me because I'm dating someone who's ALSO A HALFBLOOD because he's in denial that I'm not pure, even if I've got the scars to prove it. Good Chaser, must be pure. It's an arsehole thing but I can't make myself tell him to fuck off. He gets me. More than Uncle Finbar does.
Whatever. We'll see. It's all going to turn out.
Fuck. Optimism's weird.