This IS outrageous, this IS contagious!!

I know how much you all depend on reading about my fascinating life, and half of you think I am dead, so I would like to take this opportunity to say that I have returned from my brief hiatus, primarily for your entertainment. And what a week it’s been.

I have, in all honesty, had the best week of my entire life.

I’m (almost) happy now, just thinking about it. I say ‘almost’ because I am sat at my desk, back in the office, and that is not conducive to being happy. So far I have done very little actual work, but even being here is bad enough. Particularly as I had to wade through 100 emails this morning. Not fun. Especially emails like the following:

Could you please let me know if you can see a Rapesco Model 2160 Hole punch in your area. This was borrowed from the legal section and we are in urgent need to it.

Its a Rapesco Model 2160. There is a tippex mark with Legal 1 written on it.

I swear one day people will notice me banging my head against the wall and then maybe they will stop pestering me with their pointless irrelevances.

Anyway, back to my amazing week. I guess it all started last Friday, when I wrote the previous entry. So I suppose that’s where I will start. S has written a really good description of the night on her livejournal (we’ve given up on the pretence of not reading each others, it just got complicated) so if you actually want to read about it in a slightly more coherent manner, read hers. Also she says nice things about me. Sweet. Basically, I intended to go round to hers and have a drink and then she had to go, and I’d go home or something. That was the plan. Instead we went to the Court and drank a bottle of red wine (good for the heart, or something- anyway, better than the filthy white wine I’m always being *forced* to drink). More people came. Transactions took place. Far more wine was drunk. I got a bit grumpy but soon got over it. I got groped on the stairs, which I wasn’t best pleased about. A while later, I was having a chat with S, again on the stairs, when some Asian youth grabbed her and kissed her, much to our mutual disgust. Tanked up on the vino, I vowed that I would go and have words. Cos that’s ALWAYS a good idea… right. Anyway, marched up to the big group of yoots who deny any knowledge and ask me to pinpoint which of them it was. I couldn’t really as they all look the same. I know that sounds really racist. But British Asian guys look and dress exactly the same. They need name badges. Anyway, things very quickly degenerated into me telling one particularly odious youth that his mother and sisters would be ashamed of him. He, of course, told me to leave his mother out of it, which I took as bait to taunt him even further and tell him that all his ancestors would be ashamed of him and that he and all his friends bring shame on their respective families. S had also come upstairs and so had her (male, large) friend and what with S hitting the yoots and me screaming “have some fucking respect, you inbred motherfuckers” and things of a similar ilk, a fight broke out. Now I don’t like fighting. I’m a pacifist. I’m also weak as fuck. I tried to get S out of the way but her friend got punched in the nose and we had drinks and bottles thrown at us. Etched in my brain is the very vivid memory of being halfway down the stairs, looking up and seeing fifteen Asian boys screaming and throwing punches, with S and her friend in the way and being absolutely terrified for S (more so than myself- I would never want her to get hurt in any way). At the same time, I was looking down the stairs to the crowded pub, all of whom were staring at us, especially JS and JA, who looked shell-shocked/disgusted/appalled/amused (I don’t know which). And all the time, I was screaming at the Asian boys that they brought shame on their ancestors. It was completely surreal.

I don’t know how we got away from them. JA jumped up and held S and made sure she was alright. S’s friend had blood all over his face and was taken upstairs to the staff room to clean his face. The Asian boys were thrown out, screaming as they were forcibly ejected. The police were called. I paced up and down the pub feeling agitated and then started crying. I couldn’t- and can’t- believe I started a fight. And that a friend of a friend got hurt. His nose was bleeding for ages. He had to talk to the police with pills in his pocket. I felt really bad, and everyone thinks I’m some super aggressive moron now. I’m seriously not. It’s the first proper fight I’ve been in (the other two incidents were more random attacks and I didn’t do anything in retaliation). I’m a lover not a fighter. I feel awful about the fight. Truly awful.

Anyhow, after we’d spoken to the police and drunk more wine and everything we went back to halls and got really shit faced (see last entry for proof) and I laughed so much. JS took lots of pictures that I’m still waiting to see. I talked a lot of shit but for some reason people thought I was funny. S and JS kept clamping their teeth together because it felt good. Fun and games. I finally fell asleep at about 3pm for a couple of hours, and woke up with the most excruciating headache, a bruise on my back and a pain in my hip that is still there. I went to sleep in S’s room for a bit but I was missing N and wanted to call him, so I went home. He’d been sleeping too but he finally came round at about midnight and we tried to stay awake all night but we fell asleep at about 4. He had to get up at 6 to go to Amsterdam, and I tried to wake up a bit and say goodbye properly but I was too damn tired and sad that he was going. The bed felt empty once he’d gone and I had to curl up into a little ball to get back to sleep.

Later on- at the far more respectable hour of 10:30- I got up and had a chat with #1, who I don’t seem to see all that much of nowadays. She was tidying her room frantically as her mum was arriving later in the day. #2’s mum was there. I don’t get on so well with her. #1’s mum is amazing. She’s the sweetest lady. She’s invited me up to Newcastle to stay with them- I mean, how cute is that? And she got us all Easter eggs. I went into Brixton with my giant rucksack (I had to go to Tesco’s) and nearly broke my back thanks to the heavy shopping. Next time I think I will take my suitcase. It has wheels = plan. Stupidly, I’d looked out of the window and thought, “oooh, it’s really nice out there!!” and put on flip-flops. The moment I stepped outside I realised it was not flip flop weather and it was in fact cold and wet. Pah. At least I bought a kettle though. No more boiling water in a pan. S had been laughing at me and calling me a tramp for that. Divine retribution means that her kettle is now broken. Maybe it’s a big kettle conspiracy? Mayhaps.

Went to Hammersmith to meet S and D and D’s friend to do a bit of Primark shopping. Didn’t I say that we were well into culture? Yes I did. And culture it was. I love Primark. You don’t get much better than that, really. I bought a very cool hat. Then we went back to halls and watched tv. You don’t get a better Sunday than that.

That’s not actually true. You do get better Sundays than that. I had one yesterday. I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy. It is. I have a big smile on my face.

I’d just like to reiterate how great this week has been. Not because I’m smug. But because I’m genuinely genuinely happy, and those that know me know that that is quite a big thing for me. I wasn’t happy all week. At one point I was desperately sad and wept uncontrollably. I guess that’s just me though. Even when I’m happy I have the spectre of misery so close behind me that to even notice it is unbearably difficult. I’m really trying though. Trying not to dwell on sadness, and to concentrate on the things that are making me happy. And there has been a lot making me happy- notably, N. I cannot even begin to articulate how he makes me feel. I know that I don’t have the necessary words and that I would fuck it up somehow. Until I know the words I should use, I won’t use any words at all.

I so wish I wasn’t at work today. For one thing, everyone is leaving. It’s a rubbish job. I want to do something more interesting, or if not, then just better paid. I should really get started on job hunting.

I also wish I wasn’t at work today because I miss N. I keep doing stupid things like look at his facebook pictures. “Oh how sweet”, I hear you say. No. Not sweet. I’m looking every couple of minutes. That ain’t sweet.

I’m really stuck about what to write about next. A lot has happened this week. I don’t know what to write about. It was JS’s birthday on Tuesday. We had a meal (that’s “mee-yal” not “mill” – think about it) and then went to the pub where drunken hilarity ensued (the term “hilarity” is used in the most ironic sense possible there). JS is 21 now. JA ate what looked like a plate full of mud. Squid ink risotto. I cannot think of anything I would like to put in my mouth less. I say “put in my mouth” because I cannot contemplate actually eating something like that and I would have to spit it out... That sounds far worse than it should.

I have eaten so well this week. I have never eaten like this in my life. We didn’t have nice food when we were growing up. Amazingly we didn’t grow up to be really malnourished. That’s not actually true. My youngest brother used to be a proper runt and my mum had to give him vitamins because his diet was so lacking (he really didn’t eat, it was only bread and sugary stuff). Then he missed a week or so, and decided that the best thing to do would be to neck the whole bottle to make up for it. My mum was annoyed. I think swallowing fistfuls of pills runs in our family. It’s always nice to realize that you’re not unique. Anyway, I’m completely digressing. Yes. Food growing up = rubbish. Food this last week = fucking amazing. On Thursday we went to Brindisa by Borough Market and I had this incredible fried goats cheese with orange blossom honey. Fuck me. It was damn good. N said he’d never seen me looking so happy. And with reason! It was truly incredible. And these amazing broad beans… And then a chocolate truffle. Fuck me indeed. I thought I’d died and gone to food heaven. On Friday we went to the Japan Cultural Centre (on Piccadilly) and had amazing Japanese food. I’d never eaten it before and didn’t have a clue what to order, but N has eaten lots of Japanese food before so thankfully he knew what he was doing. My god it was good. I think it might be my new favourite food. Apart from goats cheese with honey, obviously. And then yet more great food yesterday, at a south Indian restaurant in Peckham.

I’m getting hungry just typing all of this.

Apart from eating copious amounts of food, we did other fun things, like shopping and seeing bands. We saw The Evens on Friday and Little Wings last night, which was just beautiful. The guy’s voice is just amazing. If I could sing like that I would never stop singing. Yesterday we went to a really cool bookshop in Peckham. I’d never thought of Peckham as being remotely cool- think “Only Fools and Horses”- but it’s great. I think it’s the next area of London that I’ll live in (I seem to move at least once a year, so I might as well plan ahead- I’m certainly staying the right side (south) of the river). I bought Nina Bawden’s latest book (she’s Legend’s grandma) but when I tried to read a couple of pages of it this morning, it made me very sad. So I’m reading “In Cold Blood” instead, seeing as I was so inspired by seeing Capote the other day/week/whenever it was.

What else? On Saturday we went out to the pub and then went to Afterschool, which is always a mistake. It was far better than last time (committed readers may recall that I left and cried at the bus stop and swore never to go again). N got very drunk and I made lots of Jewish jokes and threw JA out of his own band for being generally rubbish though I can’t remember the exact reasoning behind why. I did yet more impressions of the shopkeepers in Stoke Newington. I got renamed Paddy. There’s nothing quite like xenophobia. We danced lots and I couldn’t stop smiling because N was making me laugh and I just wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him.

This is a horrendously long entry. Hats off to anyone who actually reads it. I suppose I have kept you all waiting, so you deserve a special long entry. Or something. And it’s given me something to do on my first day back at work other than skive, think about N and worry about S (who’s not having a fun time). I’m sure there is plenty more for me to write. I just can’t remember what.

Oh yeah, I figured out that actually, I’m an optimist. Make of that what you will- that’s my analysis anyway.