Things that rock:
a) The sea: despite all my Brighton mates saying I'd got jaded with it, so far it's still big and cool and interesting to look at and changeable and nice to walk alongside. And, according to a mate of mine, it puts out negative ions which make you feel happy. This may be hippy bollocks but, hell, I can see her point (yes, OK, I haven't managed to do the virtuous daily walks thing but I'm still managing 1-4 a week so I'm not doing badly)
b) Jodie Marsh: No, don't look away in disgust if you're a fan of all the mean tabloids/trashy mags who say nasty things about her. I know her. She's dead nice. She spends ages (often a day a week) replying to everyone who writes to her who's been bullied, is really friendly (she's helped me through bad patches even though we've only met a couple of times) and, bless her, she's been saying nice things about I'd rather be single than settle, unprompted, on her blog. So vote for her tonight on the All Star Talent Show (8.30pm, Channel 5, tonight) 'cos she really is lovely, honest (and has been practicing really hard)
c) Shoes: Or rather, one particular pair of boots. I've never really understood shoe-love - until I saw a pair of boots at New Look (yep, OK, I never pretended to be posh) that are utterly gorgeous. They have a high but walkable-in heel. They're calf-length and Victorian style, and tie up the front with ribbon - so they're both cute and sexy. And they're, annoyingly, only available in brown from my local shop, and I want them in black (although I love them so much I bought them in brown anyway - and now have to buy some brown clothes. Or go out naked in brown boots).
I've never stalked a pair of shoes before but I'm currrently trudging up to the shop every time there's a delivery in the hope that they'll have a black size seven pair in (so far, it's been wall-to-wall size fours. But if you're a size four, like kinky boots and live in Brighton, hey, fill your boots. Or rather, my aspirational boots) I've even gone to the levels of texting my mum who lives in Birmingham to check out her local store (New Look won't order items in - boo) I now realise why women get obsessed by shoes (even if these ones are only £35. Yes, for boots. I know!)
d) Pub quizzes: Uncool as hell to admit, but the one at my local rocks, mostly because the (ever-growing) pub quiz team is full of lovely and clever people who know the answers to questions such as 'What's the biggest lake in Wales' (a question that was as easy for me to answer as 'Name a lake in Wales.' Namely, not very. I really suck at geography - though I did get a geography GCSE - from which the only fact I can remember is that East Anglia's farm industry is arable. And I wouldn't be certain enough to stake a shot on it at a pub quiz) And partly because you win booze.
e) My mum: For not thinking I was a mentalist for texting her about shoe-love. And just for being generally ace.
f) Bizarre coincidences: I've been booked to do a reading at the Folkestone Literary Festival. It's my first literary festival and is therefore special (and not a little overwhelming) My publicist was asked 'Would Emily be OK appearing with cult novelist Mil Millington?' AKA, my best boy mate. Fairly obviously, I said yes. It'll be good to have someone there to draw a crowd (and buy me drinks)
Things that suck:
a) Wet mornings that sound so gale-like and horrid that they incline you to stay in bed until it all goes away
b) SAD: Yep, depression season is here again. So far, I've got lucky(ish) but so many mates are suffering at the moment and it sucks. They should put Lustral in the water along with chlorine so that badness stops happening.
c) The Post Office. I don't do mornings (unless I'm on a 'virtuous walk day'). I certainly don't do 'extreme' mornings, so I have a full collection of 'you weren't in and we tried to deliver a parcel at 6.30am when only real grown ups/boring people are awake' cards cluttering up my desk. With a handy number on the back to call if you want to spend half an hour of your life on hold, only to go through to an answerphone that doesn't take messages, and have to repeat the whole process again (with the same result). Just give me my parcel. Or have an online function rather than a handy URL on the card that takes you through to a page saying 'one day you'll be able to arrange redelivery through this website. But not now, so fuck off, bitch' (I may be paraphrasing slightly)
d) Pub quiz hangovers.
Aside from this random ranting, life is much the same as ever - lots of work, lots of nice friends, no decent blokes (and I'm bored of indecent ones - except for the ones I already consider friends) and general good things. Got a show to write and a couple of proposals (book, not marriage) to write so I guess I should get back to work.
Posted by emilyd at October 13, 2006 05:33 PM