girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary

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My first night at the Proms

I don't like starting the week off tired, but I guess that's my life now that I'm ... 31 years old. It was my birthday yesterday. A nice day I had too, doing nothing during the day except watching three episodes of Six Feet Under, with the Straightest Gay Man In The World (after his Saturday night conquest, who was also his doppelganger, left). He bought the series on DVD.

Then last night I went to my first Prom, and it was wonderful, really exciting and enjoyable, even though it was hot hot hot in the hall.

After, we went out with my sister-in-law's brother, who is in the orchestra, and his beautiful wife, who is also in the orchestra, and her handsome cousin and his glamorous girlfriend, who are both architects from Italy. It was nice. I don't know why I don't go to concerts like that more often.

Saturday was lunch with someone who I've kind of done my best to ignore, you know, never call, respond only to the emails where she asks me if I've died, but she just doesn't give up. It was OK though, and I feel bad, I shouldn't be so mean.

Friday night was tapas, and inevitably, B&A getting stroppy over nothing. B was deliberately winding me up, and I stupidly bit -- going on again about how he didn't like Sydney, making the frankly ridiculous assertion that it was "the most boring city in the world" and that there is nothing open there on a Wednesday night. So I was just agreeing with him to piss him off. "Yes, well Sydney is the most boring city in the world," and he was making faces like "I don't know, she's crazy" and then suddenly claimed that he'd never said that Sydney was the most boring city in the world. But he did.

I can't help it, I know I don't live there, but still, it's where I grew up and I don't think that I have to listen to someone going on about it who has visited twice for a couple of days.

And, I mean, he's from Kirkby. So, you know.

After proclaiming right here in this diary only a few days ago that I wouldn't want a free copy of The Darkness, inevitably someone gave me a copy of the CD by ... The Darkness. AND tickets to see them in October.

She said she was listening to it and heard this line about Hey Octoped, you've got six hands too many, and she thought I would love it. And I'm thinking "but I thought 'ped' was to do with feet, not hands". Only ten minutes before I'd been complaining that the Spandau Ballet song "Instinction" still drives me crazy if I ever hear it, sending me into fits of "but the word is INSTINCT" rage.

I'm sure that seeing The Darkness will be excellent fun.

I heard a great joke too. I don't know how it will translate being written down, but here goes... What goes "give me a mint, motherfucking cuntface bitch"?

Someone suffering from Cloret's Syndrome.

Boom boom!

10:44 a.m. - 2003-08-04

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