there is a girl that rarely goes out

alex (and some other lovely ladies) are currently watching the wonderful crowded house at wembley arena. i however, am busying myself perusing craft blogs and waiting for a miniature apple pie to cook. at least i was until alex phoned part way through distant sun and i took the opportunity to have a much needed cry. i like this new tradition of being called from nice gigs (as started by jam whilst watching i'm from barcelona earlier this year) - i did have a habit of doing it quite often, but it's nice that the tables have turned a bit.

so, december then. the month of christmas sure came around quickly this year didn't it? i had been avoiding writing down the tales of my exciting life incase i suddenly had no more to write about.. but it turns out that was definitely silly thinking and now my only real record of living makes it seem that i've been in hiding for months. not the case i would like to assure anyone reading this now. i've done all sorts of nice things and been all sorts of nice places.

but what of late i hear you cry? well there's been mince-pie making (success), life in the letterpress workshop (sore fingers and virgin fm) and answering the world's questions - 'what would you consider to be the opposite of a french stick?' being a recent example that sticks in my mind. i like my job lots, but am slow at it (thus earning rather little) and endeavour not to be eternally sat alone in front of my computer.

wow, little pie - you're delicious. despite me improvising entirely on your ingredients.

i'm hesitant to type the next bit, as i never really got to announce that i occasionally got to fall asleep next to/hold hands with a boy that i dreamt about for a long time.. but tv's tom bell & i have broken up. i assumed these sorts of things took care of themselves, but as the fortnight-old fish & chip wrapping was news to my sister, i thought perhaps i would write it somewhere to save any awkwardness. it's ok - you don't have to hate either of us, i think he's beautiful & wonderful & talented & kind-hearted - we just don't work in such close proximity as our matching badges and silly drawings led us to believe we might. and that's that. i think alex summed it up best -

"are you still going to be friends?.. is that what you've been for a long time?"

yes. i hope.

and now? there's a pile of washing up to be done, more pretty songs to listen to and lots more christmas projects to add to the as-yet-unstarted list. i'm going for homemade & heartfelt gifts this year - a protest against the faceless, mass-produced tat of capitalism? yes. no, i've clearly just run out of money again.

what is going on today? i was up before eight am and have already sent three real e-mails, answered two questions and had my customary cup of white tea & bowl of overly sweet raisin-filled porridge for breakfast. last night (with the realisation that i couldn't force alex to do it) i also sort of overcame my fear of spiders. well not totally, i did squeal as it danced around on its many legs, presumably in the hope of hiding by my shoe for the rest of eternity, but i did also escort it humanely and relatively calmly off of the premises. i guess you have to start with small victories.

back to uni on monday and relishing the thought of a little more human interaction during the day it must be said. the internet is a wonderful thing, but it isn't entirely real-life. although facebook scrabble is a rather enjoyable replacement at times. just as infuriating on occasions too though, 'wud' for 28 points? clearly not a real word.

right. missions for today? perhaps trying to make heidi roadworthy again, after the unfortunate disintegration of her back tyre at midnight about a month ago. i could perhaps understand if her wheels were made of pumpkins. (they clearly aren't, clare has a picture of her on her flickr page but i can't get it to appear here, hum) what else?probably make some more silly things in illustrator, stay in my pyjamas until the afternoon and then perhaps go for some more tea in the lovely new tearoom on stokey church street. or stay at home, which is cheaper but not as wonderful in comparison. ah yes, and then some nice stories in clapham. good good.

when i took the career test that mel posted, i found that apparently i'm most suited to being a sport psychology consultant. curious - considering the first word especially.

its three in the morning, now's probably not the time to be considering my entire future. i think i'll go to bed instead.

wowzers, september is upon us once more. strange though, i'm sure it was june last week.. it does seem to be the case that the older you get, the faster time flies. although should this definitely be the case, i would have had to have been at least eighty-five for the excruiating long (and may i add for good measure, horrifically paid) day's work on sunday to have gone by at even a relatively swift pace. a good friend of mine insists that a foray into the world of temping is the way forward, but with only about five weeks until i return to university, i'm sceptical that i'll get anywhere. and ideally i would like a job that i can carry on whilst at uni too, for obvious having-no-money reasons. but still, i suppose it is worth a try.

so i suppose this is a small plea, for the london based working folk that may well be reading this, any suggestions of specific agencies that i could e-mail my cv to? or any ideas of places that might want me to work for them? i have a couple of different things that still might work out, but any advice would be greatly appreciated. sunday's waitressing shift was infinitely more soul-destroying than last year's toilet cleaning adventures. i broke two glasses and had to bite my lip to stop a chef making me cry.

thank you and thank you again, perhaps i shall update with tales of my summer trips - although does anyone want to hear about edinburgh anymore, my bizarre trip to devon with some comedians, or a trip to latitude from almost two months ago?! perhaps not. i really should get into the habit of documenting things a little sooner to when they actually happened..

i just posted a random collection of things on the jr__nal community for the first time, it made me a bit nervous. strange considering that the reason its such an interesting community to watch is the fact that everyone's entries are uniquely interesting and comments are rarely anything but encouraging & empathetic. anyway, just as i timidly pressed 'post', clare rang me to say mark watson's twenty four hour show was just beginning. if i could close my eyes and open them in edinburgh by god i would. not just to avoid the nine hour bus journey but because i'd really love to be there.. but then again i'd also like to be able to pay my rent and not feel the sting of putting a pound on my oystercard. rats.

( those seven things are hidden under here. )

i think i should probably go to bed now.

oh baskerville, my one true love, how you reign as king of the serifs in my typographically blinkered heart.

.. like a roadie you can't wait to see the back of.