The one and only picture in this post kinda represents how I feel. Wednesday is the new Saturday (trust me, it’s a fact) and I’m still at work ALSO saddened by the thought of boarding the tube at Tottenham Court Road. What else is sad? Oh yeah I can smell pizza and I want pizza and I keep eating everything and it’s not ok.
So I lost my bloody phone in bloody Budapest (shouldn’t say bloody here as I do so love Budapest, but it was a bloody disaster all the same. Geoffrey Hughes in Swearing: A social history of foul language, oaths and profanity in English (Blackwell, 1991), points out that “by my lady” is not an adjective whereas bloody is, and suggests that the slang use of the term started with bloody drunk meaning “fired up and ready for a fight”. Another theory is that the offensive use of the word arose during the Wars of the Roses when Royalty and nobility or those “of the blood” (meaning blue-blooded descendants of Charlemagne) wrought death and the most bloody destruction on England. Elizabeth I is also supposed to have used it when referring to her elder sister, Mary, due to her persecution of Protestants.)
So anyhoo, I went into the 3 shop, threw myself across the counter, wailed about how I lost my phone, how i’ll never see it again. The memories (‘Oh the memories!’).. all those pictures! My sweet, sweet contacts… I’ll never see them again! Some dirty horrible person, holding my phone (‘My darling phone!’). My precious apps, all their precious data… gone… gone *sobs*…
Turns out I was due and upgrade 3 months ago and now I have a shiny YELLOW 5c. Fuck the iPhone 4, what a brick.
So yes all is well again in Jennifer Yellow Hat Land… although I do miss Budapest, and all the people it contains. I met some rather extra cool new people out there too. Hi, hi, how do ya do? I do well, you are good, isn’t it nice?
So I write this, sat at work. I can hear the hustle and bustle (it’s literally hustle and bustle… it actually sounds like if someone was to record a track called, ‘hustle and bustle.1’, that is what it would sound like.) outside of people going about their merriment on glorious payday (I realise I’m not doing myself any favours on ye ol’ mugging front but s’all reet.)
I contemplating eating a Rivita, with some hummus on it. I get really torn between eating ‘low fat’ or ‘Organic’. Cos, one has less fat, but one is more nutritious. I got the more organic one, because it was 3p cheaper.
I really fancy a pint, but but but but I’m going out tomorrow with some Budapestarians, then Friday with JB, Rey, Gee and Jord (sounds like the French Alphabet. Ahh Beyy Ceeyy Deyyy Eughhh Efff Shhhhhggggeyyy..) and dennnnn on Sat my Gashgrove girldem is coming to London which is just about too much for one Croth to handle- but I must push on and up and around otherwise I’ll explode with a force more deadly than the venom of a daddy long legs. (Still dubious about this DLL fact)
I need to do more exercise: I did 8 minute abs yesterday morning and I can feel my little skinny rolls resting under my t-shirt. I say skinny rolls; I know i’m not fat, but i’ve got the body shape of a boy, so I actually just look a bit like one of those jelly aliens we got when we were like 10 and everyone was like they’ll get pregnant BY STICKING THEIR HEADS TOGETHER ARE YOU MENTAL THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS. You stick their backs together silly.
Also I’m a bit bummed cos I did a VLOG (video blog. A surprisingly small amount of people actually knew what VLOG meant.) and it won’t bloody well upload. I do a professor McGonagal impression and everything!! Nevermind Crothstar.
I woke up at 4am this morning because I dreamt I was late for a rap battle with Cecilia Watcher.
Oh also, me and Gee went for a creative brainstorm about banner adverts and we went to a vegan place in Soho and this random man gave us a half opened box of blueberries which we ate and now I feel dizzy. Distinctly remember being told something about strangers, sweeties, vans, etc. I was bloody delighted though- thought I was far too old to be lured into a fruit stall. Apparently not. So that was a treat, if not potentially harmful to our health. We also ate a flapjack and and muffin. The muffin was dry which is surprising for vegan food cos those odd balls replace EVERYTHING WITH OIL.
Oh also, everyone listen to Soho Radio. Just Google, ‘Soho Radio’ and it’ll come up. It’s like well good, and I really think they’re on to something. I’m not sure what I’m trying to achieve by plugging this- friendship probably. I could do with more friends in London. Gina’s become more of a backup if nobody will marry me.
Well that was a lonely way to leave things, so instead i’ll write a jolly old poem about blueberries.
Blueberries are blue
And for that
They are untrue-
They are technically
A fun fact
Not one thing
No food or plant
Is truly blue
And could it be that you
Will second guess that this
Is some blue food test?
No, Blueberries cannot be blue.
This, I promise is true.
*Does curtsey, falls over, tries to stand, suddenly naked, wakes up sweating, was in a dream that I was in a poetry competition*