Them Bastards Stole My Internet!

Believe it if you will, after a year and a half of surfing freely and pretty much constantly, it seems my dear neighbours in charge of the superfast little minx of a connection I've been hijacking have cottoned on to my doings.

Hence an internet-poor Elle. I can't explain how much it sucks.

I mean, books are great and all that, but really, you can't hook a webcam to a book, can you? Not even unlimited amounts of vodka in my evening cuppa cheer up my lonely nights now.

I'm too depressed to blog. I'm gonna comfort eat pfeffernüsse and cry a little.

Why My Way Is Way Better Than Your Way.

Lazy people bring the world forward.
Think about it...

Always hire a lazy person. A lazy person will always come up with a creative, energy efficient, time saving solution to any task at hand (often seconds before deadline, but still). A lazy person knows all the quick commands and keeps draft of every letter and e-mail ever sent (because they can be reused with only minor alterations, thus saving you the bother of writing the whole thing again). A lazy person knows how to delegate and is therefore not at all likely to need time off for stress-related illnesses, or any sick days at all really, since lack of stress is the best tool for maintaining a good immune defence. Also, lazy people are usually very witty and droll, not rarely in a very dry manner, which is great for general work place morale.

And I can assure you it was a lazy person who invented the wheel. "Screw this walking malarchy, I'm gonna invent a device that stops me from ever having to drag foot across terra firma again" he thought and he did, too. Probably was a fairly shit prototype to start with though, what with lazy people usually being somewhat slap-dash when it comes to execution. Slightly squarish, I reckon.

I'm a lazy person. And I'm great. Now sod this, I'm off down the boozer.

Ceylon, Sailor!

Last book I read: jPod by Douglas Coupland.

Last film I watched: still "Orphan", actually.

Last song I listened to: the last song on the Mean Streets album.

Last thing I ate: a chocolate covered marzipan bread (sugar is the devil, I hate myself now).

Last thing I drank: cup of tea (ceylon, obviously).

Last person I got a text message from: Eva S (pissed off at me for not replying to her previous message).

Last person I spoke to on the phone: my yoga teacher, trying to set dates for the xmas/new-years-holiday-season-sessions.

Last person I spoke to in person: my little monster baby M.

When I Grow Up I'm Gonna Be Jerry Garcia.

I'm really into old foley right now, been listening to Phosphorescent like there's no tomorrow. Like Grateful Dead for a somewhat paler generation, in a good way.

So autumn's here, and that means getting fat. I'm like a bloody bear or something, as soon as it turns cold I start fattening up for winter, can't stop eating. It's awful. I sit indoors and listen to folk music and swell up like a tampon on refined carbs, how hot is that? Must regain self control. Arrrrgh.

Reasons Not To Move To Estonia, Or Even Go There On Holiday.

I just watched a really scary film. Alone.

Not a good combo, which means that I will yet again sleep with my contact lenses in and all the lights on, and that the cat will be allowed in my bed. So in case a crazy Estonian knife-wielding murderer tries to take me by surprise I'll be well sighted and able to throw the cat at her, thus buying valuable time in which to escape.

The film in question was called "Orphan", and it reinforced two very important truths as far as horror films are concerned:

1. If the main character in the film is a kid, it's gonna be a good'un. Kids in scary films are always a sign of extra freakiness to come.

2. It's vitally important to make absolutely bloody sure that the crazy knife-wielding Estonian murderer really is dead before you relax and count your blessings. Chances are she's gonna have a second stab (oh excuse the pun, I couldn't stop myself) at hitting a main artery before she goes out for good.

Asides from that, I have today learnt the secret of multiplying ANY number, even a really high one like 285, with any two-figure number in my head in a matter of seconds and getting the answer right every time. Like a human calculator. Something to be said for Chinese math geeks, they know their stuff.

Bite My Shoulder, I'll Scratch Your Soul.

It was the pitter-patter pitter-patter tears
that awoke me.
Shook you up and made you pretty, singing like a housewife.

Was it the hither-thither hither-thither eyes
that alarmed you?
Promises of pain and lust and things you never wanted.

There goes the wiggle-waggle wiggle-waggle days
that we dreamt of.
All the time I spent with you, my back up in the corner.

And All This Pain Shall I Carry For You

On a more serious note...

Thanks to everyone who's showing support (or planning to do so) for TWLOHA-day.

On a more personal note...

Thanks to everyone who stood by me when I was a mess. Thanks for not losing faith in me, and thanks for not losing interest in me.

On a more positive note...

I'm fine now, and that pretty much means that there's hope for everyone.

I have scars that will never heal, inside and out. But knowing that all this wasn't for nothing, and now, being able to look back at my life and say "hey, I'm happier now than I was a year ago, and a year from now I'll be happier still" means it's not been in vain.

I can't say I know where I'm going, but I think I'll know when I get there.

Thankyou, friends past and present, for providing a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear and a place to crash when needed. Thanks for the countless times you've picked me up, dusted me off and put me back together. Thanks for the love and support and patience shown. Thanks for forgiving my transgressions, time and time again. I hope you know how important you were and, in most cases, still are to me. And I hope you know I'd do it all differently if I could.

Above all, thank you M, for giving my life meaning, and C, who would have turned 4 any day now had you lived, for setting me on the right path. I'll see you again, I'm sure.

Yeah that's it. Write love on your arms, people.

Laters.

One More Day Like Today And I'll Kill You.

I've had six cups of coffee and five cardamom biscuits today. Yay. That's how I keep my Body Mass Index at a healthy 17.9.

The postman was just emptying the postbox as I came to drop some letters off. I think he gave me the eye. I like it when men look at me, but I rarely like how they speak to me.

Came home and realised it's been nine days since I got back from Helsinki and I still haven't unpacked my suitcase. Possible denial going on there, if you want to go slightly Freudian.

Life fail on a grand scale. Deep sigh.

Are You Doing The Drugs Or Are The Drugs Doing You?

My To-Do-List For The Week:

Buy wine.

Download Twin Peaks.

Drink wine and watch Twin Peaks.

Repeat as frequently as needed.

The Unwearable Slightness of Fleeing.

I am not the kind of person you want to get on the wrong side of.



Best part of today: Right. Now. Plotting.

Yeah watch your back.

Oh. No. Not. You. Again.

So yeah, the cat.

And it's not actually my cat. I don't even know the cat's real name, it just lives in my house and I feed it when I remember (it usually reminds me). We get along, mostly.

But, and it's a big but:

the cat hasn't pooped for three days now.

....

Yeah. She's gonna blow soon. And she's gonna do it when I'm at work. And it's not gonna happen in the litter tray, is it?

I hate my life and I want to die.

"I'm thinking of moving" I said.

"Where to?" she said.

"I dunno" I said.

"Then you may as well stay here" she said.

The best part of the day was the brief moment I spent contemplating whether I should put some vodka in my tea.