You may be pleased to know that I've pulled my small, withered head from out of my giant, pale arse. I am trying very hard to put things into perspective and not be such a whinge bag. There are lots of things I am grateful for and if things get bad again in a couple of weeks, I shall just get myself out of them. So there.
Please remind of this in approximately 3 weeks when I will undoubtedly be a quivering mess in that corner over there.
I made myself take the first week of the Easter holidays off, which accounts for the rare clarity of mind and although I couldn't afford to go away anywhere, I think I made good use of it. I met up with friends and family that I hadn't managed to see for a while. I also made sure I spent some time with Liam Theroux where I wasn't either a) moaning b) crying c) so exhausted I couldn't speak or d) insisting that he shut up because Grey's Anatomy is on. I don't know why he bothers. Oh actually, yes I do - it's the free and easy access to my gigantic boobs.
Speaking of Liam Theroux, he took me to a ball this weekend. A proper one where he got to wear a tux and I got to wear a pretty dress and sparkly shoes. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee! The pre-ball build up resulted in me shouting at him for the first time ever. Embarrassingly, not about world affairs, politics or even something as important as musical taste (and his is ... dubious). The exchange went something like this:
Me: Can you see my bra? [I began to lift up my pashmina but hadn't got far when he replied]
LT: Ummmm, no
Me. YOU'RE NOT EVEN LOOKING! YOU HAVE TO LOOK! GOOD GOD! FUCKING LOOOOOOOOOOOK!
Apparently I am more affronted by his inability to read my mind (I didn't mean can you see my bra now, I meant can you see my bra .... now) than his blind love of Hard-Fi. Who knew?
The ball was fun though. Most of the people Liam Theroux works with seem great, although I was introduced to the most openly bitchy person I've ever encountered. A girl who loudly and venomously critiqued each woman who walked passed our table. She came out with such pearls as "I wouldn't wear such a pink dress if I was that size." and "Oh good God, here comes Dana International". I was torn between admiring her dedication to the she-wolf cause and dunking her head into her main course.
I drank a lot of gin, ate some nice food, met some interesting people and danced to a live band. And Kylie. And Britney. And The Grease Mega Mix. And possibly, by the end of the night, The Venga Boys. All of which probably means I should stop picking on my boyfriend for liking Hard-Fi.
Errrrr, Nah!
