9 p.m. V. much enjoying the Winter Wonderland and reminder that we are at the mercy of the elements, and should not concentrate so hard on being sophisticated or hardworking but on staying warm and watching the telly.
This is the third time I have called Mum and Dad this week and got no reply. Maybe The Gables has been cut off by the snow? In desperation, I pick up the phone and dial my brother Jamie's number in Manchester, only to get one of his hilarious answerphone messages: the sound of running water and Jamie pretending to be President Clinton in the White House, then a toilet flushing and his pathetic girlfriend tittering in the background.
......................]]>http://www.googgoog.cn/post/BJ单身日记13—February.html<![CDATA[BJ 单身日记12—February]]>googcnght@yahoo.com.cn2009-08-02T18:01:57+08:002009-08-02T18:01:57+08:00 Still no word from Daniel. Cannot face thought of entire Sunday stretching ahead with everyone else in the world except me in bed with someone giggling and having sex. Worst of it is, only a week and a bit to go till impending Valentine's Day humiliation. No way will I get any cards. Toy with idea of flirting energetically with anyone I think might be induced to send me one, but dismiss as immoral. Will just have to take total indignity on the chin.
Hmm. I know. Think I'll go and see Mum and Dad again as am worried about Dad. Then will feel like caring angel or saint.
......................]]>http://www.googgoog.cn/post/BJ单身日记12—February.html<![CDATA[BJ 单身日记11—February]]>googcnght@yahoo.com.cn2009-08-02T18:00:12+08:002009-08-02T18:00:12+08:00 9 st, alcohol units 9, cigarettes 28 (but will soon give up for Lent so might as well smoke self into disgusted smoking frenzy), calories 3826.
Spent the weekend struggling to remain disdainfully buoyant after the Daniel fuckwittage debacle. I kept saying the words, 'Self-respect' and 'Huh' over and over till I was dizzy, trying to barrage out, 'But I lurrrve him.' Smoking was v. bad. Apparently there is a Martin Amis character who is so crazily addicted that he starts wanting a cigarette even when he's smoking one. That's me. It was good ringing up Sharon to boast about being Mrs Iron Knickers but when I rang Tom he saw straight through it and said, 'Oh, my poor darling,' which made me go silent trying not to burst into self-pitying tears.......................... ]]>http://www.googgoog.cn/post/BJ单身日记11—February.html<![CDATA[BJ 单身日记10—JANUARY]]>googcnght@yahoo.com.cn2009-08-02T17:58:17+08:002009-08-02T17:58:17+08:00 Heaven-sent day. At 5.30, like a gift from God, Daniel appeared, sat himself on the edge of my desk, with his back to Perpetua, took out his diary and murmured, 'How are you fixed for Friday?'
Yessssssi Yessssss!
Friday 27 January
9st 3 (but stuffed with Genoan food), alcohol units 8, cigarettes 400 (feels like), calories 875.
Huh. Had dream date at an intime little Genoan restaurant near Daniel's flat.
'Um . . . right. I'll get a taxi,' I blurted awkwardly as we stood in the street afterwards. Then he lightly brushed a hair from my forehead, took my cheek in his hand and kissed me, urgently, desperately................................]]>http://www.googgoog.cn/post/BJ单身日记10—JANUARY.html