girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary



It's August 8, the eighth day of the eighth month, and that day is lucky in Chinese, because the word for eight and the word for money sound the same.

I hope you all find a fiver you'd forgotten about in your pocket today.

Refusal will be overjoyed at the number of dull celebrity sightings yesterday. Anyone who doesn't live in the UK will probably want to skip this paragraph (that's how small the celebrities are), but here goes. I was meeting a friend at a cinema to see Good Bye Lenin! and when I got to the cinema it had been taken over for the premier of American Pie 3. Unlucky, no? So while I was waiting for my friend I saw Brian Dowling (I suppose to call him Brian from Big Brother is a bit mean now that he's a real, proper television presenter), and also Tess from the same show. They arrived with some dark-haired man who was being photographed and people were asking for his autograph, and with a tall redhead who had a terrible nose job. Well, it looked to me like a nose job, but maybe I'm wrong. Then someone else came along and the photographers were shouting "Gary", but I didn't recognise him. I did recognise Lisa and Justine (another nose job) from Big Brother, they arrived together and, inexplicably, people asked for their autographs too. I was hoping that Ray would come along, but he didn't, so I had to be content with knowing that Lisa's foot was in Ray's mouth at one point.

The celebrities all looked really tanned and healthy, in contrast with the twitchy junkie-looking people walking down the street in their nervy way, skinny and white. Except for one woman, whose leg was purple. She was so skinny and awful looking that she looked like something from a Hogarth print, really wretched.

But then my friend came and we found another cinema to see the movie, which was funny and interesting.

When I came home, I accidentally saw in the window of someone's house, it was a bedroom and I only looked for two seconds because it didn't seem right, but in that two seconds it was a snapshot, I just remember shirts hanging on the door, it reminded me of when I used to live with my ex-boyfriend (well, he was my boyfriend then, of course). I felt depressed, not for thinking of that, I wasn't thinking about him. I felt depressed at seeing someone's life and I started thinking how depressing other people's lives are. Other people's families depress me. Not because they're somehow sadder than mine, it's just that I'm used to mine.

So I was thinking I will always be on my own, because other people -- men -- they depress me with their ordinariness. Even though I'm ordinary too, but like I said, I'm used to my own ordinariness.

But then I cheered up a little, because I was thinking that living with my flatmates doesn't depress me.

Thank you to any reader who is still bearing with this entry.

The guy I was seeing at the beginning of the year, the one who told me on Valentine's day that he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend, and who later on reneged on his agreement to help me move house, well he got in touch. So I was annoyed about that, because really he's just an awful person and the whole time I was upset about what he did, I was telling myself "why do you care, you know you weren't going to want to stay with him". Anyway, he got in touch ostensibly because of some work thing, but then he was like ... well, I'll share the poetry: "Prob owe you a drink."

Actually, he asked twice, but I ignored him the first time. I was feeling guilty for saying no, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but then I just don't want to see him, so I did say no. And don't even ask me why I feel a bit bad about that. Am I soft in the head, or have I such an ego that I think he will be hurt? No, wait, I'm just soft in the head, because I ought not give a shit that he would be hurt. In fact, I seem to remember thinking that he really ought to be hurt quite badly at certain stages. I guess I just think that the universe ought to be taking care of that, and not me.

11:00 a.m. - 2003-08-08


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