Lizzie has a boyfriend. She didn’t think she would because of this other guy who I don’t like to bring up because it was such a hard break up and I came over to her house and she apologised for breaking plates on the floor, but not the good ones. She was friends with her new boyfriend for a while and described him as quite posh and so I had this image of him playing Polo and having sticking out ears.

I’m going to Barcelona. Kate and Tom were going, and then Sam too and then there was room for one more and Kate made such a good case for me to go - and secretly I’d walk over hot coals - that now I have a ticket and over the next week and a bit, until we go, I’ll drop into conversation that I’m heading to Spain, especially to those I haven’t seen in a while.

Lizzie brought her new boyfriend to her house to meet her friend the other day, and for a moment she wanted to hit him because he was meeting someone important and he might not say the right thing and there was much at stake so she was very pleased when it all went well and afterwards she cuddled up with her boyfriend in her bed that was so little it made his feet stick out.

I’ve never been to Barcelona even though our friend Diana has been living there for almost a year and in every email she says “come and visit” and she’s already organising what we’re going to do and I wonder if it will look like a city made out of orange clay because when I think of ‘Barcelona’ that’s what I see; a city made of bright golden termite mounds.

So Lizzie has a boyfriend, and I’m going to Spain.

Yeah, yeah, email me

09/2003 / 10/2003 / 11/2003 / 12/2003 / 01/2004 / 02/2004 / 03/2004 / 04/2004 / 05/2004 / 06/2004 / 07/2004 / 08/2004 / 09/2004 / 10/2004 / 11/2004 / 12/2004 / 01/2005 / 02/2005 / 03/2005 / 04/2005 / 05/2005 / 06/2005 / 07/2005 / 08/2005 / 09/2005 / 10/2005 / 11/2005 / 12/2005 / 01/2006 /

sites what I write on:

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