quite too utterly utter

If you open it in another window, it will be much clearer. And clarity is important here.

The story of my life

I was reading the news in bed this morning, when I came across this article. Pretty fitting, I'd say.

I never had a TV in my bedroom before London, and now I practically sleep with my computer.

saturday morning coming down

It is almost noon. I am at work, but I am not working. I am trying, but it is Saturday morning and this just feels like free time.

I am drinking tea, I am reading the news. I am updating my blog. I could be doing all of these things at home, but I am "needed" at work. I am trying to reach Sarah, but it goes straight to her voicemail. She is either on the tube, or talking on the phone, but she is not here! She is supposed to be like I am supposed to be.

I love being here when no one else is. Crosswalk, I am sorry you did not get to come visit my office. You could have had tea, and biscuits and free jeans! I failed you, I think.

Crosswalk leaving was really terrible. It reminds me of Jonathan Franzen's father - it is better to not leave, than to leave and have to come back. Your departure coinciding with Sarah's (soon) departure and I am quite depressed. For one week I had two girlfriends and in a matter of days I will be back to none.

I am going to stay in this city and I am going to make more friends. I am also perfecting the art of having no friends. There are loads of people I like, but the people who become mates are much harder to locate.

God, this reads like the blog of a 17 year old. I have a crush on so and so, but he likes her and no one understands me. Why God?? Why??? I cannot wait until I graduate. And so and so is a little slotsky.

it's all for charity

I just picked up a brand new edition of The OC series 2 for £8.

Hurrah!

how naughty

Somehow I have come to prefer Prince Harry. He's rich, famous and has access to a sick amount of ass. We're talking boyband ass. But where is Chelsea? Naughty boy.

Obsess Much?

I spent the better part of today searching for a job and an apartment in Vancouver. I wouldn't be moving there for at least another year (probably more), but I am already planning. I want a cushy job and a cushier apartment. Big views of mountains and oceans.
I put a picture of Vancouver on my desktop and stared at it longingly (and it was not a nice photo).

I need to stay in London until I make some serious dosh. I worked too hard to get here to give it up for nothing.

I just miss ready-made friends. I miss being able to snob people, I certainly do not have that here: I have to take what I can get here.

And on the topic of obsession, I am getting married in these shoes.

So now I just need Crosswalk to graduate and get her ass west, I (maybe) need H. to apply for his PhD west and I will be set. There is nothing wrong with this codependency. I have been alone long enough now to know that for sure.

i must put this forward

We have a new client at work whose surname is Labia.

His first name is Andrew.

A. Labia.

I work with A. Labia.

she says

Last night was excellent. Excellent, like my flatmates came home at 1 am and I was sitting in the lounge, drunk off my face, watching Mr. Boogedy on YouTube. Excellent, like my boss started a water fight and almost got us beaten up. Excellent, like we had to pour him into a cab and had to convince the cab driver to take him.

Excellent, like my ex-intern walked me home and I know he came upstairs, but I have no memory of him leaving.

This morning was not so good. There was an unfortunate incident with a toothbrush and I threw up once I got to the office.

I told them all about you, Crosswalk, and I am hoping for a similar evening while you are in town. There is fun to be had!

how wild

Drunk. Had to put my boss in a cab. Literally standing in the middle of the road, flashing some thigh, hailing a cab.

Benji walked me home.

I wish you knew these people.

too close for comfort

I just leaned outside to close my window because I thought it was raining and the noise turned out to be my neighbour pissing out his window.
Big fat guy.
Tiny penis.
Just a silhouette, thank God.
Ahh city life.

today is the day

Good things are happening. No doubt this will be coupled by bad things, but for now - enjoy the good!

First. My debit card showed up this morning. I am officially a bank account holder. My boss called and yelled at the branch manager (really) and they finally let me open an account. Hurrah the cranky American!

Second. I work very hard at my job and I usually feel a little neglected, so yesterday, to make up for my poor salary, I received a cash bonus. A big'un. I want to treat myself to a little something special like a Chloe/Marc Jacobs/Luella bag from work, but then again, perhaps my laptop which is less than a week old is a little something special. Perhaps.

You know what I am going to buy? My degree. Concordia is holding it in hock.

Speaking of the new laptop, I can rarely talk about anything else. So clean, so white. The Mac is a little hard to get used to. It has an Intel chip, but I do not find it to be as fast as the PCs I am used to. I get incredibly impatient and the programs crash. I thought Macs were beyond crashing! Is it me? Am I too much for Mac?

Crosswalk will be here in less than two weeks. There are no words. No words, she mutters.

je suis hilarious

H's Indian name is Lives With Two Others.

Ahahahahaha. Clever clever.

hello lover

My new Macbook is stunning. So incredible, slick, swish, amazing that I cannot get over it.

I can listen to any BBC station right on my desktop. I can play Sudoku. I can keep in constant contact with my lovely friends (and I do mean constant).

It has a big, glossy screen, remote control, built in webcam.

This is it. This is love. Now he just needs a name.

hello hater

My application for a bank account has now been rejected four (count 'em) times. Four! On four separate occasions with three different pieces of identification, at two different banks and two different branches of the same bank.

What is a girl to do?

Seriously.

What the fuck am I going to do? It's been eight months and my options are running out.

Bastards.