Today I am in a mildly dopey state due to no fault of my own. I did go to bed relatively early last night (when I began to get bored of O Brother Where Art Thou and the thought of watching the re-run of Pop Idol made me queasy). Unfortunately I was kept awake for many an hour by the girls who live downstairs. How someone can cackle non-stop for a minimum of 45 minutes is beyond me but they sounded like they'd eaten a cannister of laughing gas between them and were thoroughly enjoying its effects.

The weekend saw me stay in my pyjamas for two days solid, getting out of them only to shower and to change into fresh pyjamas. I got one of my bastard essays done though. Sunday. Six and a half hours. 2,500 words. Methinks I procrastinated a bit.

I went to a house party on Friday night. It was one of those parties which started off good but ended up becoming a steaming pile of cack by the end. The two 'friends' I went to the party with ended up buggering off upstairs, one locking herself in a bedroom with some bloke and the other locking herself in the bathroom with some other bloke (Girl 1 has a boyfriend and Girl 2 is engaged - fucking disgraceful behaviour if you ask me). I was left in the kitchen with a group of scienticians whose idea of fun was to discuss the relative merits of the particle theory. Needless to say I went home shortly after that.

Tonight I see Love Actually again. I hope it's as funny second time round. It should be. I mean come on, I can watch the scene in Drop Dead Fred (the one where Phoebe Cates is in the restaurant with her friend Mickey) again and again and every time I have an aching stomach and tears streaming down my face from laughter. Ain't that marvellous.

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