Now it's been established that I need to stalk the main comm a lot more often, I actually have an update today.
My sad absence from posting fics has been due to many things, not all of them good, but on Sunday I went to
Southport. For those British people who have never been to Southport, imagine
Blackpool only less
gaudy, with fewer
piers, and you've about
got it. If you're British and can't imagine Blackpool on account of never having been or suffering some kind of
post-traumatic stress from being left in the underground public toilets by your mother's friend who was supposed to be looking after you and coming up on the wrong side of the road and being
shouted at because of it... more power to you, you don't
want to imagine Blackpool.
The phone is ringing. I'm not answering it. Phones weird me out.Anyway- bleurgh, cold tea... - the weather was
good (shock) and we wandered around, and walked up the mile pier. Not all the way to the end, because a mile is a long way to walk for bugger all and then you still have to walk back.
We saw a
pigeon. I'm sure you're wondering why I'm bringing this up and I'm doing so on account of the fact that I found this pigeon rather amusing. It was just
sat there, on a bit of grass next to the pier, surrounded by bits of bread, barely feet from the path and not moving when people walked past it. We - that is, the people I was with, that being my friend
Kelly, her boyfriend
Matt, and Matt's friend
Pete - decided that this pigeon was a low ranking member of the
seagull mafia and was guarding the stash until they came back.
On the
beach, Kelly and I rescued five
ladybirds. I don't know what the hell they were doing half a mile out on the sand but they seemed to have crash landed, and were unable to take off again because of the wind. It was rather windy.
We later saw the same pigeon, on the other side of the path, sat between the tracks of a
train line. Apparently he had failed in his duties and rather than let the seagulls take care of him was saving them the job and doing it himself.
Then, we went for some
Chinese. There was a cute waiter there. I had duck. I love duck. Yum yum.
I spent the next couple of days making myself horribly depressed looking for jobs, before coming to the conclusion that there are
no jobs. I have just been informed by my friend
Tom that he has just been offered a job, so perhaps I'm not looking hard enough, or all the jobs are on another plane of existence that I simply don't have access to. I'm probably not looking hard enough, but the other explanation makes me feel better.
A good thing is that I talked to the friend I was bawwing about yesterday, and she really
hasn't changed all that much. Not that I can tell, anyway. Yet. We shall see. What I find
funny is that for the past couple of months she's been practically
stalking me too scared to talk to me because of what I'd think of her. Silly woman. I do love her though.
Bit of
TMI, now. Maybe. If you're squicky about that kind of thing.
I got the
curse dropped on me this morning. I've been in pain all day. The main problem with this, is that I'm in so much
pain that it upsets my stomach, so I really don't want to eat anything.
It
really fucking sucks.
What else can I tell you...
I'm going to
Brugge in December. Mum wanted to go in
July for her birthday but we figured it might be too
hot and so we got on a thing for the Christmas Markets. I'll take lots of photos.
I'm also going to
Venice in September. This was not quite so elaborately planned, more of a suggestion sprung onto my father
pushkingram by myself and my sister
sparklyscorpio . We didn't actually expect him to agree to take us, but he
did, because he's freaking
awesome. So I'm going to Venice. I'll take lots of photos.
I might also be going to
Ireland if I can ever get a hold of my friend
Alison to make the arrangements for summer.
Also, I might impose myself upon
lemiru in
Switzerland if I have the money. We can have
tea.
I'm going to be writing a lot today.