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this entry was brought to you by the 'strike' tag, youtube.com, and the particularly narcissistic letter i...
it's raining in canterbury and i'm sad
sad as in s.a.d. kind of sad, i guess
james was worried about me the other day and so he came round and forced me to leave the house
we went for a walk and even though he moaned about it almost constantly [it was muddy/not interesting enough/there were too many people/it was cold in the shade/he was hungry] i had a really nice time
sunday was nice too
very nice in fact, for several reasons that i am obviously going to go into great detail about now...
first off, it was lovely and sunny and we really made the most of the weather by going to the cinema for 3 hours in the afternoon and we walked around kent uni campus for a bit, which is really quite nice, well it's very green at least...
then the film was really good, better than i expected actually and i was expecting a lot – for something to get james' seal of approval you it has to be damn near perfect – so i was very impressed
[by the way, clint's gun/crotch close-up on the big screen = hot]
then i cooked some really nice pasta before being forced to endure not only the x-factor, but strictly come dancing too
it was ok i suppose, whatever floats your boat even if, like james, it happens to be andrew castle in sequins
anyway, then we decided to go to the pub for a little drinkies because i've lived here for two weeks now and somehow hadn't managed to venture into my new local yet
and when i say local, it really is very local indeed
oh the joy of a three-minute journey home when you're cold and drunk!
and it was very cold... i wasn't so drunk though... think james was more so, judging by the increasing soppy-ness of our conversations when we got home obviously if you ignore the bit beforehand, where he said i occasionally looked like i had some kind of 'syndrome'
actually, he said something really strange/nice to me about me 'clearly' being the more attractive one in our relationship, which took me by surprise since i honestly thought [and thought that he agreed] it was the other way round
i feel awkward telling people i'm seeing i think they're attractive, not sure why, i always feel like i'm 'just saying it' even if the sight of said person makes me want to rip off their usual outfit of a black shirt and tight, belted jeans, and fuck them on the spot i actually mean it
maybe it's because i never believe people when they say it to me, particularly if they are semi-drunk greek/americans with a penchant for 'making love in the ocean' although i am occasionally inclined to believe james, since he says i 'could' be really beautiful or that i 'can' look amazing, when i can be bothered
which i agree with
then it turned out that to prove this point, he'd sent a rather slutty provocative photo of me [i have a feeling it was the one with the corset and the dark make-up and the wavy hair] to a friend of his to, i'm not sure what, show off?
and so when he got a 'she's well fit, mate' positive response from his friend, i can only assume he replied with something along the lines of 'yeah, she doesn't look half that good most of the time'!
in other news, there's a guy downstairs playing a clarinet...
somewhere...
my life now has it's own jazz soundtrack
ace
who the hell says 'ace' anymore?!
