Today, my piece went in The Daily Star - almost a full page (17) with a byline and everything. Was dead chuffed that they've hardly changed a word. I haven't really spent all morning opening the paper, looking at my byline and smiling. Course not. Cos that would be uncool. But they've got nearly 750,000 readers so am dead excited in a very uncool way.
Feel like I'm five and have just got the present of my dreams (a Lego Pirate Ship probably - I soooo wanted one. But figure that spending £80 on one would not be appropriate behaviour for a 28 year old cos I wouldn't play with it enough. Maybe the Barber Shop/Playdo thing instead as is cheaper.)
Have done nothing of any value today. Got up late. Had crisps and Pepsi for breakfast then lay on the sofa randomly flicking through the TV channels in slob-like way. Felt ace. Have got to go to shops to get more Cava as we inadvertently managed to drink most of the Christmas Day stash the other day - I blame the big glasses we've got because you only get 4 glasses from a bottle so it seems like you've both had hardly anything. And then four bottles have vanished. In my defence, I've drunk hardly anything in the last month so a night of alcoholic oblivion was well deserved.
While on subject of inebriation, am convinced Metro horoscope writer must have been half-cut when he wrote yesterday's entry for Taurus:
"So what if your chipolata isn't as big as you thought it would be; it's cold, and getting anything hot inside you is a treat. See the positive side of things."
Posted by emilyd at December 24, 2002 03:23 PM