Dreamt last night that Gina and I were in the crowd at Barack Obama’s funeral, in Ravenclaw weirdly, but got told to leave because we were talking too loudly. I can only assume I was angrily muttering at my outrage of finally being at Hogwarts then being put in sodding Ravenclaw, sans Obama.

I’m becoming addicted to Heineken. I know that sounds like alcoholism, but it’s specifically Heineken. I dunno what to do about it other than drink £4 pints. Why couldn’t I get addicted to say, air? or running? or even apples. They’d last me a lot longer and I’d get praise for eating them at 11am, rather than funny looks.
Also I’ve noticed a running thread of non sense in my blog, therefore decided it would be best to take notes on my groovy Nokia so that I can go back and write about the little interesting things that have happened. Let’s have a look shall we? (Note- I started doing this when I was drunk on Friday.)
Zoe and me. Aus man.
Saw Sherm.
Jord Friends.
Shots and beers.
Asian frats.
Running at 5am and you know why.
I like buses they are homely.
It turned off.
Hydra bus.
There you go, make of that what you will as I haven’t got A CLUE what it’s all about. Perhaps drunken note taking should not be one of my new ‘things’.
Friday was fun though- it was Kelly’s surprise birthday and I went to Hoxton square. I played a game with 4 men whereby I had to stand in the middle of their circle and make small talk until the outdoor heater clocked out, then to be allowed to pass, I had to press the button. Sounds weird. It kinda was.
The bar we went to was pretty funky- reminded me of the ruins bars in Budapest. All trees and fairy lights. We then toddled to Queen of Hoxton. All in all, twas a good night. I came home to an empty pub, to be informed at Shane McGowan was coming to hang out tomorrow. Yey. 
My diet has consisted heavily of porridge lately- being the only food that I can afford and will fill me up coupled with the fact that there’s about 3789127319863 pots to be eaten up at work as they were left over from the shoot. Also, lots of croissants. Croissants have become a popular item in my belly too- I smashed one bag of them at work with peanut butter and marmite on, then yesterday morning, Irish bought me two and we sat and chatted about life until Scottish Lou came along and I did some ballet aerobics. Turns out, I have v. flexible feet.
I thought it’d be a nice idea to get some exercise in before the holls, and burn off at least one cheeseboard. 
I should mention I had the sandwich to end all sandwiches with James Rafter at a pub called The Enterprise. It was turkey with a pot of gravy to dip in. We decided everything should come with a pot of dipping gravy. We all sat by a fire and played with a man’s dog. 
Talking of Holls, what am I doing for new year? Thinking either Ireland, Budapest, or Norwich, because Norwich is up there in the top three party destinations for New Year shenanigans. I’m being ironic, although Norwich isn’t so bad, as I have previously discussed with Reevo on many an occasion. I’ve sneakily put in, ‘tickets to Australia’ on both wish lists to mum and dad, hoping that they have a moment of insanity, assume it’s some over priced hat from Topshop (this wouldn’t shock me actually, i’ve put ‘black fedora Topshop’ on my list to dad and i have absolutely no faith in him actually buying a fedora- i’m expecting a kag in a bag from Millets or some waterproof socks. I think I just put it in there so that I truly do get a surprise on the big day) and they buy me tickets to Australia, and I’ll be over there for new year. Hurdles? yes. Reality? Underwear, perfume and chocolate pennies. NOT that i’m ungrateful- in fact i’m so fantastically humble that I want to do some charity work. So shove that up your, ‘Jeeeeen, it’s not all about the presents..’.
I’ve been sleeping in the office at the pub recently as Irish is having my room decorated. Now I sit on my bed in my bedroom, with the smell of fresh carpet and newly painted walls intermingling with my tea. Deeeelish. Chemicals for brekko yeehar.
Today I’m going to ebay some clothes, go to the laundrette, think about life then do some drawing. All of these activities will be interlaced with porridge eating. I love the word interlaced at the moment. I dunno why- the meaning is pretty standard, it’s just a succinct and illustrative way to explain quite a dull concept of things happening in and around other things. Also, I’ve just written a TV script that is literally all about the interlacing of events.
My side hurts from what is called, ‘the oyster’ in ballet, hence my only photograph of me lacking motivation to start my day and being sad that i’m in pain.
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