2/16/2004
 
I worked out too hard on Saturday. Every muscle in my body is groaning with each micro movement. And I drank quite a lot too. On Saturday night, after the gym, I went over to Sam, Olly and Lorna’s house in Clapham where they cooked a huge meal for everyone and plied us all with drink (or we plied ourselves) and each one of them asked me if I was really okay, because it was only Thursday night when I broke up with Will, to which I replied I was fine - which I am - but how in films they never talk about the people who are almost right for you; the nearly perfect but not quite, to which they took my glass and filled it up again but this time with the red and we sat around the dining table long after we’d finished the meal.
 

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sites what I write on:
londonist

sites what I wrote on:
über: I haven't been completely honest
somewhat.org: on the up

blogs:

christopher
elizabeth

boys:

tlc
homorobotic
sex, lies & videotape
diamond geezer
vivid blurry
raw youth
secret simon
learn swedish
the rob log
why god why
a beautiful revolution

girls:

dooce
afrochic
belle de jour
pound
jems web
lindsayism

pulse:

timmy ray
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fantastic blogs:

a light fantastic
a chair fantastic
a rug fantastic
a kitchen fantastic
a bed fantastic
a clock fantastic

tools:

life hacker
i hate work
hi-gloss film production



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