Exhibit A

I finally got to meet a (much talked about) friend of a friend. It was one of the oddest things- I knew a lot of very personal details but I didn’t have a sense of the personality. Weirder again was the fact that the situation was mutual- like meeting a celebrity who has heard of you too.

And then it all became a game of “personal details” chicken.

I was at the airport yesterday waiting in the departures lounge.

Sitting opposite was a small odd looking boy with red hair (United Colours of Beneton odd).

No more than seven years old, thumbing the beads of his rosary and silently moving his lips.

Unsettling.

“So do you think you’ll meet up with your Ex over the holidays?”

“Yeah, I get the impression she’s keen to see me.”

“What’s she like?”

“Sweet, fragile though… kinda insecure.”

“How come?”

“Well, she only has one leg.”

Imagine you didn’t know what reading was or what books were and you walked into a library that was full and silent. That’d be weird.

(I think I’m losing my mind)

I got my ass kicked by a room full of people without pulses.

… it was a SOUL-LESS exam.

Two hours to go till the spot test. My class are littered all over the library trying to get to grips with the actions of each muscle, I can see them flexing, extending, pronating, suppinating and circumducting- and then there’s one that looks like he’s doing the actions to YMCA…

but he’s from California.

On the 23rd of december last year I was rushing to get home for Christmas. My last stop was to run into the Westbury (quite a posh hotel in the city centre) to pick up a voucher for afternoon tea. It was a present for my great auntie Eileen. I think she liked the present.

Unrelatedly, she had a stroke on the 28th and died within the month.

For the period she was in hospital she could not speak clearly but when I went to visit I could usually discern the word “Westbury” and then she would screw up her eyes with a smile.

My mum rang me up today to say that she and Dad had used the voucher this afternoon (it was returned to us- there was no prying from cold fingers). They had a nice time. I asked did they think of Auntie Eileen and Dad told me he put extra cream on his scone just for her. 

“As Auntie Eileen would have said ‘It was all jolly pucker!’”

This isn’t meant to be funny or anything- I just miss her I guess.

…remind me to tell you about the funeral- now THAT was funny.

I just hope I’m not reduced to singing:

“… the thigh bone’s connected to the hip bone…”

Just a quick observation regarding the puke on the street this morning:

Does anyone chew their food anymore?