I know, I know, it's been a while. But nothing of massive consequence happened to me recently. And I've had a horrible, old woman, hacking, tuberculosis type cough. (I'll do it for you: yes, yes, smoke some more). Actually, I still have the cough, I need to go to a doctor and stop being so damn lazy about it. But! I have made new discoveries!
> DISCOVERY ONE: My cat is fucking adorable. He is. His new trick is to sit on top of the TV when it's on. But then he sees all these people inside this little box as he's lying sprawled there, and you can see the tip of his tail beginning to twitch as he pulls himself into sitting position and gazes upside down at the TV. By this time, I'm beginning to giggle, so when he plonks down on his stomach and makes grabs at the yummy Owen Wilson, I'm hysterical. Which is when he notices me, and is all like, "Whatchoo laughing at, woman?" Then, he will turn his back to me and the TV and the world in general and wash himself thoroughly and indignantly. This is point normally when I grab him and say, "Whoosh my handsome? Whoosh?" into his ear. He suffers this if we're alone, even purring a little, but if there's anyone else in the room, he looks at me all stricken and "Mo-oooooooom, please." and then scampers off. I love mindfucking with my cat. What else are small furry dependant creatures for but to sneak up and pat them on their bottoms as they stalk flies, thereby making them jump a mile in the air? Heh.
> DISCOVERY TWO: Okay, so I have an addictive personality. So far, my addictions are: coffee, cigarettes, potatoes, cell phones, the internet and lifestyle. This is why I don't do chemicals (besides the fact that they can completely blast out a few hundred brain cells), because I'm afraid that I might get all coke-head-y. (Also drugs are bad. Sorry, this is a particular pet peeve. And don't give me the whole oh-alcohol-is-a-drug schpeil. Face it, alcohol is legal for a reason and MDMA just isn't. And before you ask, nope, not an alcoholic, yet. That seems to be the one addiction I've been exposed to that I haven't grabbed on to.) Anyhoo, so recently I discovered the ENTIRE Babysitter's Club collection online. OMG. Hardly daring to believe my eyes I clicked a link and there they all were and it was Claudia with her funky clothes and Stacey who was diabetic and really a big city girl and also a trendy dresser and Dawn who had super long, super pale hair and was from California and liked health food and Mary Anne who was shy and cried a lot but had a very cute boyfriend and Kristy who had this billionaire stepfather and who I always suspected was gay and Mallory who had seven brothers and sisters and Jessi who was black and a ballet dancer. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. And I've been just reading them and reading them. Like chocolate or something. I can't bring myself to stop. Last night I was reading till THREE in the MORNING. I'm doomed. (Go to scribd.com and do a search for babysitter's club.)
> DISCOVERY THREE: So, I have two new flatmates, starting next month. Both girls, both from the old alma mater. It's nice that I sorta know them, because then I'm not sharing with absolute strangers. It's nice that I don't know them THAT well, because sometimes even the nicest friends can turn into absolute psychos when they become your roommate. I need to give these two pseudonyms though. What to call them? They're both tall--well, taller than me--so that won't work. Should I just give them random names? I think so. Okay, so the Compulsive household now includes eM, tc, Yamini and Lali. I'll miss Shark Tooth, but despite my best efforts, he's determined to move, so I'm glad at least his replacements are nice. And organised. And everyone leaves for work at different times so no bathroom issues, before you ask. I have SO much to do though, before they move in and he moves out, including changing the names on the lease and changing the address on my SIM card which is on Shark Tooth's name now.
> DISCOVERY FOUR: I have crow's feet! At the young and tender age of almost-26! This SUCKS. I refuse to be old. I don't WANT to turn 26. I'm having an aging meltdown. The party, which I've planned for next weekend (my birthday's on a Thursday) is going to have a kid's theme, as in, I've told everyone to dress as they would in 1987, I'm going to have games like Pin The Tail On The Donkey and Passing The Parcel and Three Legged Races and so on. It'll be just like being six again except with alcohol. Lots of alcohol. On second thought, this adulthood thing isn't bad at all.