I like what Matt wrote. Funny. Man…i couldn’t imagine being a mum, let alone a fussy one edo!
But hey, it’ll happen eventually. According to Rob, he wants to be married when he’s 22. Until i pointed out to him that left him a year. I guess he has to re organise his life plan now. Speaking of life plans, everyone i know seems to be thinking about it. I’m calling it Graduation Looms Syndrome. What are we gonna do? I cope by not thinking about it.
I unintentionally got razzled again last night. On Wednesday, we were down our local, and we thought it would be a good idea to go to Propaganda straight after. I wasnt up for it, but i went anyway. Turned out that Propaganda is now under new management and was shut that night for whatever reasons. So we went across the road to the biggest dive on the planet called Hombres. It was Indie night…it was ok. I wasnt impressed. And then last night, Anna rang Mikie and told us to go down to Junction to have a drink with her and her old work buddies. So we went. For some reason we jogged there. Anyway, one of her work buddies tried to have a conversation with about how Frosties were the way forward. That was good fun, drunken ramblings are pure comedy. You can rely on the Junction for a good time. If i could pat the Junction on the back i would. I’d introduce it to everyone as my best mate. The walk home was interesting…i stopped at a lamp post to pole dance Kate Moss stylie (in that White Stripes video) and since the short cut home involves going through a posh neighbourhood, Mikie and Anna destroyed two beautifully cut hedges when they were wrestling. I thought i was being super duper clever by hiding under a car so no one could find me, but the fun stopped when i realised nobody cared and had to crawl out and chase after them. When we got home i stumbled through the kitchen to make food. I think i nodded off because i woke up a few seconds later on the floor with my hand in a box of Coco Pops. I think that this week, i have been out on the raz far too much. Its time to lay off it awhile until next week…when the bar opens at uni of course.
I still feel like this has been the longest summer ever. It feels like something ridiculous like 6 months or something. I have six pounds left in my bank account, to last 10 days. I plan on eating Coco Pops for a long time. Thats a depressing thought. We tried to have a ‘house discussion’ the other day about the flat, but all we could come up with was the rule that pee pee found on the toilet seat will not be tolerated (guys, you’ve peed and aimed at a toilet all ure life, get it right!!) and the obvious, do the fucking washing up.
I want uni to hurry up and start. I want all my friends back. I want more silliness. I feel like i have no aim in life unless i have work to do, essays to write, and money to throw away. Thats probably why we’re all scared about finishing up in a year. All my life i’ve been told that this is what you’ve gotta do next, from GCSE’s to A Levels to getting a degree. And now i’m just waiting for someone to say this is what you gotta do to get onto the next thing. But no one has told me anything. Its up to me. And its well scary.