Note to self: “wicked cool” is not a greeting, so stop it!

You know when you’ve been out the night before, but you forget about it, and then something makes you realise that actually, a few hours ago, you were pissed as a newt? I was on facebook and I was like “oh my god, who changed my profile?” and then I realised it was me last night. I tell ye, they shouldn’t have been winding me up about my cleaner… Anyhow, I woke up really early this morning so I could sit in the kitchen and see what happened when #4 looked in the fridge for his sandwiches. It was too funny! Though maybe you had to be there.

And oh my god, I forgot how much I like having my hair cut! I spent the whole morning having people stroke my head and they were all like oh my god, look at her eyelashes, and she has pretty ears. As well as there’s this bit on the back of my head where my hair starts going funny and I swear it seems to be every hairdressers wet dream. It’s like my secret weapon, I just flash it at the hairdresser (not hard, it’s on my godamm head) and they go oooh. I have no idea what they’re talking about s I just smile and let the Japanese students stroke me and say kawaii. It’s all good fun. And yeah, if you’re wondering, my hair is fucking cool (better than the silly emo picture I put on my myspace profile last night… only just noticed that).

I spent the afternoon wandering around and buying books and presents and stuff. I love just wandering around during the day. I mean, yeah, I didn’t go to the bank, which I should have, but you know. Anyway, I was walking down Charlotte Street and someone shouted out my name, like my proper name. It freaks the fuck out of me when people do that, 1) because it’s always a bit weird to be accosted in the street, but more importantly, 2) I haven’t been called that in four years (other than by family and certain other people, whose rationale seems to be “your name is crap”), and it’s a bit weird to suddenly be called by my old name. I turned around, and it was one of my best friends from sixth form. I hadn’t seen him in about three years, and it was a bit awkward, but very nice to see him and all. This little group of us used to go to the pub together almost every day in the summer and generally hung out all the time. G really didn’t like him because he was convinced he was trying to shag me, and in retrospect, I think he was right, but we always had fun. Ah, Cambridge. I do kind of miss the place. The other day I was talking to this guy who knows my best friends ex girlfriend, and I just started talking about Cambridge, and it made me think about the fact that I did actually have lots of fun there, and the most wicked friends. I don’t think I would live there now, but once you start thinking about “back home”, you kind of get all nostalgic. And I was fucking stupid to lose contact with so many people.

But hey. I’m off to get pissed now.