possibly submitted it in a drunken stupor

Just got an e-mail from a law firm thanking me for my application, and letting me know they'd be contacting me soon with a decision.

I do not remember submitting this application.

I wonder what was on it.

maverick

http://beatonna.livejournal.com/74943.html

Pimms and an early night to doze in front of Maverick and Goose. He nudges me awake during 'select homoerotic scenes' (his words, not mine).

The movie finishes and he turns the laptop off. I look up from the bed and he is wearing aviators. I laugh until my stomach aches and he kisses me to shut me up.

sharp

A favourite blogger has been describing her break up. Her experience wrenches horrible familiarity in me.

I am too scared to write about him, despite eighteen months distance.

I am exhausted today. I have been short with my flatmates all week. I cannot concentrate.

I wrote more than this, originally. I cannot post it. Perhaps this will be catharsis enough.

things I wish I'd said to the man harrassing me as I browsed in Ann Summers

Man "Natural is better." [bonus: guess what I was looking at].

What I Didn't Say:
"Not with you."
"I'm not sure your wife would agree."
"Liar."
"My girlfriend and I don't think so."

Feel free to contribute.

PS: apologies for surfeit of sex posts.

calling

I went to buy lined paper today, for revision season is upon us.

As I left the shop, a man came up to me; tall, black, hot.
He wanted to tell me I was the prettiest girl he'd seen in two weeks.

Precision aside (bizarre), I smile and say thank you, because, well, he isn't a weird Hispanic bloke.
"I'm moving to America tomorrow" he continues; "I work in the adult film industry."
...
I got propositioned for a porn job in WH Smiths.

christos anesti

He's not, actually. He won't rise for another week if you're following the Greek calendar. It's Lazarus Saturday today.

I have only spent one Easter in Cyprus, but it remains a strong memory. I was ten or so. Bright, white heat, stone beaches and rabbit filled cages in the back yard. My parents worried over the clothes we wore to the Easter procession, and church. I wore shorts, in the end; clearly I must have been young enough for it not to matter.

We kissed the plastic covering the icons and shuffled around the cool floors. Years later I'd lean down to kiss the brass plaque on an Uncle's coffin in London and the sting of incense, the brewing quiet rumble of emotion would make my mind flicker back to the coloured gilt of the Cyprus church. In the car I'd listen to T-Rex and think about my relatives crossing themselves.

Happy Easter.
Christos anesti; alithos anesti. (Soon).

fool

Would be quite the joke to actually post, don't you think?

Two days until college finishes. I have pages of notes from tube journeys spent staring.

Am fine. More soon.