girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We might look like you, but you should know better. I've been feeling irritated with my flatmates all day because (a) they woke me up at some ridiculous hour last night and (b) I saw in the kitchen this morning that they'd opened a bottle of alcohol that was given to me for my birthday. But now I'm not feeling so much irritated as in awe of Ange, who managed to pull some bloke in between our house and a video library that is 10 minutes walk away. I wish I knew how this was accomplished so I could share the story with you, but I'm afraid that it has all been forgotten -- along with the bloke's name (absinthe may make the heart grow fonder, but it's not much in the way of an aide-memoire so to speak). We do know he's Irish, and he wants to see her again. We don't know at what point it's good to say to someone: "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." The most fun thing about my flatmates is that they always gossip about each other, and it's like they're dying to dish the dirt on the other one. And, you know, it's not as if I was ever going to drink that alcohol, but still. .......... As well as being irritated because I live with two normal young people who go out and have fun while I retire to my bed at some early hour, and haven't been drunk in weeks, I was having a crisis today. I finished reading "Girlfriend in a Coma", and while I think it was supposed to be an uplifting call to action, it sent me into a crisis, just the usual existential rubbish. But on top of my usual end-of-book blues, and my aching legs, it was all too much. I couldn't even think what to do with myself. I mean, I found my head saying "why not go shopping", even though shopping is guaranteed to throw me into crisis more than just about anything. Douglas Coupland, though, he taps in to certain things that are just so true. Like wanting a chance to do something heroic, something meaningful. I want that. I get so worried though, whenever I try and think of doing something, it's always quitting, stopping, giving up, something negative. It's never embracing something, it's not positive. Is it because we have so much? Too much? That we never ever feel need anymore? Except the need to be rid of things, maybe. Objects are slowing me down, my possessions are ruining my life. That's how it feels sometimes. I should just stick to reading Jane Austen, no? 9:47 p.m. - 2003-08-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||