Friday, 23 October 2009


As my friend PC puts his feelings about the BNP's appearance on Question Time last night: 'They're wankers. We knew that.' He thinks we should all go and do something other than twitter about it.

He's right, but a little late. Why did anyone even watch Nick Griffin last night? If you know he's a fascist, and you don't agree with it, why even give his opinions the time of day? I'm all for free speech but you're just as free to choose what you listen to.

The best thing anyone can possibly do now is use their vote against the BNP. Vote Lib Dem, if you must (sorry, boyfriend). Watching Nick Griffin defend racism is hardly anything to feel smug and informed about.

Wednesday, 7 October 2009

nobody at the gym is cool

Oh my God, man on the cross trainer flapping his arms. Are you trying to fly? It can't be that awful.

Irrational creeping hatred for Paolo from yoga class as he gets on the treadmill in his stupid too-short tracksuit bottoms.

I look like a total dick when I run.

Thankfully, so does everybody else

Tuesday, 6 October 2009

under the

I've bought the new Basement Jaxx album. It's on, now. I can't think of another band whose new releases I've always rushed to buy.

Miss McG influenced my musical expansion, third year university finally tumbling into albums I must have loved subconsciously before. I saw her on Sunday, hesistant and pretty (vintage says MM) in the Cambridge sunshine.

Today I sat in a conveyancing seminar and put together fragments of what she'd said, stitching her words with thoughts of my own and missing that year with an empty stomach ache.

Remembering PC saying you just don't care what people think. Until he said it I had no idea it was true. Now, it doesn't seem so accurate. I'm not sure what changed.

I miss parts of myself.