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We've gotta hold on to what we've got
2006-09-30 | 8:06 a.m.

Awake this time on a Saturday, oh joy. I went out last night and after a few beverages were consumed got it into my head that I wanted to send messages of hatred to the former boyfriend (wooo...I'm regressing), only I seem to have matured slightly and recall thinking 'I'm drunk and might regret this. If I still feel this way I can send it tomorrow when I'm of a more sound mind.' So at least I'm glad for that as I don't feel like messaging him anymore strangely enough.

I think the only reason I'm angry now is that he did not break up with me at a good time - it was the week when I had my bike nicked and had also found out my grandmother, whom I adore, may be very ill.

So fast forward one month and here we are and my grandmother has cancer (we'll find out if it's operable in the next week or so, but it's pretty bleak whichever way you look at it) and now the boy keeps contacting me asking how we're all coping, but I'm convinced he's only doing it out of guilt and I don't particularly enjoy hearing from him as it still makes my stomach lurch.

But what can you do?

Moving on, I went out last night with Leanne (who's come back for a few months after working in France) et al and ended up in the horror that is Jaks. On the dancefloor some bloke type started dancing with me and the following conversation ensued:

Bloke type: 'Hey there! I'm 24, what's your name?

{I tell him my name}

{Time passes, as time is wont to do. Unfortunately that Godawful song 'Big Girls Don't Cry' is playing - you know, the one by that man who clearly had a preference for helium over oxygen in his day to day breathing.}

Bloke type: So I'm 20, how old are you?

{I tut and walk away whilst being told 'You'll regret this!' No dear, I won't.}

On a different note I saw my dad on Thursday as it was his birthday and he has become even more of a nutcase than I remember, which of course is great. Some of the things he says to me include, but are not limited to:

'Your mother, she tried to run me down and kill me once you know.'

(No she fucking didn't.)

'Some woman cut me up while I was driving so I followed her home to shout at her.'

(What kind of psycho does this??)

'I don't like my neighbours, I might end up thumping one of them.'

(Yes, I have warned him of this place we call Prison.)

He also thinks my aunt (his sister), who died tragically of a heart attack seven years ago, committed suicide.

Ugh...I now feel like I'm only going round his to establish a relationship with my two year old half-brother, which I am and whom I love dearly.

I have no fitting conclusion to this entry so I'm not even going to bother trying. Adieu.



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