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Finally left the gruesome prison of my flat and immediately felt better (no shit); trudging around St James' Park in the dark trying to find a bin; successfully acquiring one of the Christmas presents I need to get (I also need to remember to adopt a beehive for my grandmother and find something for Linds and everything on top of that will, as
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In fact a bit that felt nice was dancing with my back to someone taller than me, with his back to me: his bum gave my lower back a gentle unintentional massage (m-assage! HA) and then I moved away because I found a bit of space and holy fuck I was being a terrible space-invader, but (in my defence) it was v. crowded in there.
Also your bum looked good when you were dancing on the stage.
Today I went to see Kirsty Newton's 'Life Begins at Party' which was her first solo show, that she did at Edinburgh, and she had comedy songs (and one heart-breaking song that she cunningly used other people to lift the mood from. )
It was getting recorded so I brought my laugh, and she gave out party bags with a toy and a sweet and party-poppers. And conical hats.
There was no dancing, though.
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+ painkillers
+ gel cushions
+ ... ass masseuse?
Also man there was no fucking space. I just gave up and used a guy as a pillar for a bit (that's the one who I ended up having a kind of non-arm-wrestle-whatever-that-was with).
YES GOOD. MORE PARTIES. MORE PARTIES.
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