girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary



So many things... this, that, him. Two births over Christmas, one friend's mother died. German keyboards start qwertz. One family I go to talks about nicking things from a factory, the next family the mother tells me that it's OK if I couldn't read Proust because she couldn't read it when she was my age, but then when she was older she just loved it. My family? "I thought it was prounounced 'prowst' not 'proost'."

Cooking, cooking -- do I secretly believe that food is the way to a man's heart? Do I want to find my way there? How when women talk to me about ironing their significant others' shirts I feel as if they may as well be talking to me in a foreign language about nuclear physics.

Books, books -- how I'm going to read the books I've bought. How I've read the books I've been given.

Then there's the Great 5 A Day in January Scheme. Not quite up there with the Great Train Robbery, a Five Year Plan or even the Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle, but it's my solution to my financial problems. Only I keep thinking that maybe January should start next week, cos I might want to spend a bit more this week.

Whether or not you can freeze things with rice and then heat the whole thing up together. Can I do that? My Great 5 A Day in January Scheme is kind of hinging on the fact that I can.

Chilli recipes, what I will put in the great chilli recipe that is cooking up in my mind, and hopefully on the Tricity Princess this weekend. (I got the Chilli Plan from a book I just read, a novel, not a recipe book.)

Umm... I'll listen to the CDs I've already got in January too.

Wanting life to be in order, not knowing whether I should battle against my ... what's the word, dammit, succumbment isn't a word, is it... I'm trying to say that I've given in to chaos, I don't even try to fight it in these.... well, there are more than four walls, none of them parallel, but within my figurative four walls.

But maybe I should try and restore order.

Get my house in order.

I do love the idea of order, but I have classified myself as chronically disorganised and I try to work with that, but maybe I should fight a bit.

I need to smoke a British Camel Light and then a German one, because I think that the German ones smell spicier, and I want to find out. Because these are the things that play on my mind.

Relax, relax... I still hear it from ... well, from men, actually. But then on the plane yesterday I was thinking that no one can prove that my worrying hasn't kept a plane in the sky. After all, I've never been on a plane that has crashed.

Planes, planes... Airbuses, Boeings, four engines good, two engines bad?

I remembered something last night, and then I was pretty sure that... well, if a guy who is not exactly whimsical tells you that he once looked for the end of a rainbow, that's just a line, right? Because, well, I'd just admitted to looking for leprechauns once.

I'm already feeling how the year will go by in the blink of an eye, and how I won't even mind, because I've also succumbed to this passing of time.

Please don't confront me with my failures
I have not forgotten them

12:24 p.m. - 2003-01-03


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