I’m totally rich! Yesterday I sold 500 of my NEDITW shares on BlogShares and it came to a whopping $22,000! And I still have another 1750 shares left! Of course I reinvested the money at once. Ew look, a snail…
I’m staying with Joe’s family on Sunday and Monday. There’s already talk of a nut roast.
Tomorrow I’m sitting in a park to finish reading The Subtle Knife
while friends I haven’t caught up with for a while drop by for a glass of lemonade and a catch up.
Being a Fantasist
The lovely Jef
writes that my blog “has a Walter Mitty quality.” Not knowing what that meant I I did a bit of research and discovered that the phrase comes from the novel The Secret Life of Walter Mitty
, written by James Thurber, first published in 1941; a book that has since entered the cultural lexicon and refers to a person who “fantasises about a life much more exciting and glamorous than their own.” The book deals with Mr. Mitty who lives a boring life and dreams of imaginary worlds where he is a pilot, a surgeon and a soldier. Now, I know what Jef means – he’s referring to my changes in tone rather than speculating whether or not what I write is fact or not. But believe me, there’s still weirder things that happen that I don’t mention because they really do
sound made up. Gay Buddhist Monks? Tabloid Journalists anyone?
Having a House
Settling in nicely. Susan and I are sharing with a spunky 21 year old kiwi girl called Michelle who works in publishing, and two quiet black guys who work lots, don’t drink and spend a lot of time in their rooms. All in all, it’s beginning to feel like home.
The date was fun. Got to second base, which is very chaste considering we went back to his place and
bought a bottle of wine on the way. I left at 11 and discovered my lips were very chapped on the journey home.
And as for the two boys in the pic below, no I don’t know them personally - it was just to give an example of, er, male models – but I’d like too! If you have either of their numbers drop me a line. I know; I’m a bit boy crazed. I blame spring.
Belle de Jour Clones
Belle de Jew? Flatmate de Jour?
Suck suck suckety suck.
We didn’t move on Monday because “the Internet wasn’t ready”, so we’ve had another four days in the office that skank built. Now we’re moving Tuesday after the long weekend. There’s a new dress code too - no jeans. What are we to wear instead then? Slacks. Of course, I have many pairs of slacks. They’ll go quite nicely with my Panama hat and neck tie. Good Grief.
On the Up
You know the competition for plays set in lifts that the nice people from the BBC told me to enter? The deadline was the 8th of March, not April. Almost cried.
Scoobies finding out about this blog
I have never told the Scoobs the blog address because I wanted to write about them with autonomy. Lorna, the minx, has tracked me down. Now it’s only a matter of time before “put that in your blog” becomes a Scooby catchphrase.
Bought the last ever issue last night. Not even Kelis and Andre 3000 on the cover can help save the magazine that’s been at the cutting edge of UK youth culture over the past 20 years: new wave, Grunge, the rave scene. It’s just a pity there doesn’t really seem to be any proper youth culture these days.