eek...

still haven't told the boy. feeling rather negative about it and him. sad. know that i'll have to do it soon but some information was brought to my attention which threw me off a bit and i decided to delay the approach. cannot find basis for information.

:(

i don't know if anyone ever reads this. sometimes i wonder about that. i'm assuming at the moment that no-one does so i'm going to have a heartspill (which is somewhat like an oilspill except that it doesn't harm marine wildlife). I am in love. This is disasterous. You would think that I had grown out of this type of behaviour. But no, no, I enjoy causing myself pain and anguish. I love that cold, empty misery at the bottom of my stomach that sucks all the joy out of life. I'm like someone who has a compulsion to dive into drained swimming pools, always hoping that this time - there'll be some water at the bottom. I'm being melodramatic.

Anyway, so i'm in love. I realised this at 7am this morning while lying on my futon looking out at the morning sky (which was bright blue, by the way, yet managed to turn grey by the time i ventured outside). I love the boy. We've been together for six months - i should have seen this coming. The problem being that now that I've realised this, I have to tell him. And I don't want to tell him because i'm terrified that perhaps he doesn't love me. In which case, I'll have to leave him. Which I don't want to do...because I love him. The argument is chewing on its own tail right about now.

Its quite obvious to me that I've loved him for quite some time, but have withheld the information from myself in the knowledge that I wasn't able to deal with it. Being in love comes with responsibilities, most of them being to yourself. I am now responsible for protecting myself from heartbreak. I am responsible for making sure that I have some control over what happens and I'm responsible for being honest with myself and with him. So, I have to tell him. Because if I don't, then I'll be lying to both of us. And if he can't love me...I'll have to end it - because if I let myself continue loving someone who won't love me back then I'm telling myself that I don't deserve better.

I've just inhaled water and now I'm coughing. Yes, but I'm not going to tell him for another 10 days. I need time to mull this over...

why i hate big brother

ma tummi is rumbuhlin. actually, it's not actually making any noise but it hurts and is threatening to give me that sick, too tight feeling that i get when i need food. the problem being that when i feel sick i can't eat and only gets hunglier and hunglier. only another hour of being here and then i can go home. although that's a bit dull....

i've stayed in every night this week (its thursday now) and all i got was a taste for horribly crass realusoaps (my new word) and the suspicion that i'm over-rested. Big brother has unfortunately recommenced. It's strangely addictive however and the characters this year are particularly offensive to my sensibilities. Anyone who would choose to be locked in a house with absolutely nothing to do for weeks on end deserves to be considered offensive. Most people would only expect such tragedy to befall them were they to commit some heinous crime or other and land themselves in a penetentiary (as the americans like to call them). To my knowledge being objectionable is not yet a crime. Willingly subjecting yourself to such an experience, however, is surely a result of some sick longing to be observed and I would think a rather unsubtle hint that there may be some psychopathic tendencies at work. These people are not only self-obsessed, violently insecure and painfully vulgar...they're impossible not to watch.

Worryingly, the only other thing that seems to be on tv is Celebrity Love Island which is, surprisingly, far worse than big brother. Although the contestents are about equal in terms of intellect, sophistication, desperation and moral fibre --- those on celebrity love island are considered mildly famous by the general public (I stress mildly) which is worrying. I may have to opt-out of modern society.

I'm being even more annoying than them today. It's just all this resting it's making me cranky and prematurely conservative. Although I still stand by what i say about big brother and its tasteless siblings.

hangover cures

still recovering from sunday's hangover - am currently experiencing profound lethargy and tendency to give students evil glares.

in order to encourage my recovery - i am going to go to marks and spencers after work today and buy leaves of baby spinach and strawberries. I am making a blue cheese and sausage salad with roasted red peppers and sundried tomatoes. The strawberries are for after. As i live toute seule, there will be no need to share (not that blue cheese and sausage is everyone's favourite salad combination). I am having an evening of me (but will probably get bored and ring cassie to come round as she lives round the corner).

desperate housewives is on ce soir.

ow...

I crawled out of bed this morning - reluctantly. Gingerly, I shuffled to work, hoping that the contents of my stomach remained there. I got to work early and put my head down on the desk - the room began to spin so i opened my eyes again but they were like lead. My stomach was sickened and fragile. I had a mother of a hangover.

It's not really my fault. I went to Sunday brunch at Dan's house. So that was about 12 or so. There were about 8 of us at the rather civilised gathering, including a married couple which I always find frightening. We were drinking tea and having a fry while sitting in the sunshine being very civilised...and then there were strawberries. Unfortunately mine came in a glass of champagne. 10 hours later - I wobbled into a taxi and went home.

This morning I thought I was going to pass out in the classroom. I'm quite sure that alcohol must have been coming out my pores. I feel horrible...although it's 4pm now so I feel much better than earlier when i was in such a bad state that I couldn't pick up the pen to write on the board. Once i had a big mac i was feeling much better. i know mcdonalds is not the healthiest food choice but a stomach full of alcohol calls for a lot of grease and salt.

Also feel depressed which among the unpleasant effects of my typical hangover. Haven't been this bad since the Christmas party.

revised attitude to football

i was having a quiet night in last night with my friend cassie. we were flicking through the channels looking for will and grace (which is always on somewhere). Left with only a choice between episodes of "How Clean is Your House?" and "When Good Sharks Go Bad" we decided to watch the football for five minutes. We started watching just after half time. Milan were winning 3-0 and both teams looked bored. I was bored looking at them. In Cassie's immortal words "they're playing like me on a Saturday night" i.e. not scoring. Then in the next 10 minutes Liverpool scored 3 goals and suddenly Cassie and I were borderline hooligans. Admittedly, we spent the rest of the match waiting for the excitement of the first ten minutes to be revisited which it never was but watching well-groomed men sweat is not the worst way to pass a couple of hours.

I also believe that women are louder than men when watching football. Furthermore, in between shouts of 'pass the ball, you tool' or 'your goal is at the other end of the pitch' they also like to rate players' sex appeal and offer practical style advice - "a few well placed bobby pins would prevent his hair from flapping in his face"...

football

the boy has returned from his illicit week of football on the continent. i hate football. I hate watching it, i can't play it and the thought of it makes me feel queasy. unfortunately for me and my love life, the finals of the european champions league are on tonight. hoo-ray! i've been informed by people who understand such things that this is an important night in the lives of all those poor unfortunates who are obsessed with the game. this means no boy for me tonight. maybe if i love the boy, i should start loving football? or maybe just football players...i think i can love football players...or at least their legs...