Positivity is the key

Illustration by Matt Bandsuch

Thanks to this post by cjane I have been shaken out of my little woefest. Life is full of beauty and joy. And, even on the most horrendous days, when it feels like nothing is right, there is always at least one little thing that makes me laugh out loud. I love to laugh. Laughing makes everything better. I particularly like to laugh at my own jokes because, man, I'm funny.

The new job (dun dun dun) starts in the morning. The suit is ironed, sandwiches are made, mental notes to self on inappropriate things not to discuss are prepared. I have to do that because, when I'm nervous, I'm all about the inappropriate. Seriously. The things that come out of my mouth have to be heard to be believed. Incest jokes, check. Sexual innuendos, check. Tomorrow morning I have to be Helen-lite. I can't go disgracing myself on my first day. That can surely wait until the Christmas do.

Then tomorrow evening I'm seeing the Mighty Boosh live. I wish I could be excited. But I'm more apprehensive. I sent an email to someone about it. In the hope he'd read it. And consider what I said. But I haven't heard anything. And it was probably a mistake. But you have to try don't you? Because, otherwise, you'll never know what might have been.

Things that have made my day today:

• Roast chicken for dinner
• Amusing texts from my best friend, hysterical about the fact Britney's new album is out tomorrow. He's such a cliche.
• Getting a bottle of wine as thanks for doing the pantomine scenery. Plus lots of compliments (although my mother tried to take some credit. Pfft!)
• This video!
• I want this... please?
  

What's made you smile today?

"When I think that I'm over you... I'm overpowered"

6am cobwebs

Friday was good. Strange but good. The gig was incredible. Roisin Murphy is an amazing performer. And it's worth going to see her for the outfits alone. It brought back memories of watching her at Glastonbury and Bloom this Summer. Particularly Bloom. Except without the howling icy gales and the boy at my side.

Plump DJs was so not as amazing as I'd hoped. Well, the music was. But, to be honest, it felt wrong being there. Too many memories I guess. I love the Warehouse Project, I really do. It's an incredible venue, the sound is amazing and it's just awesome. But without the traditional bus ride back to Liverpool and the customary day in bed laughing, drinking wine, watching Ghostbusters and eating curry.... it just made me sad. And sorry that I let things end up the way they did.

I'm fairly certain that I'll never forgive myself for that.


This post has been brought to you by the second day of a raging hangover, eternal regret and tuna melt sandwiches.

"I think we waited long enough, baby. You know me only too well..."

Busy. Busy. Busy.

All I have time to post today is this....



Eating curry at Tasha's. Watching Roisin Murphy at Manchester Academy. Dancing the night away to the Plump DJs at the Warehouse Project.

Does Friday night get any better than that?

:)

This post brought to you by the letters W O and E

iPod FAIL

Today has been a big bag of woe. WOE.

Firstly, my ancient yet beloved iPod has decided to finally give up the ghost.

Secondly, in trying to fix it, I followed the instructions on the apple website (grr) and downloaded the newest iTunes. This has resulted in all my music disappearing. Yes, DISAPPEARING. Years worth of music gone. GONE. I am a lot more upset than I probably should be. But when you've got a cold pretty much any little thing going wrong is devastating. And I don't call losing thousands of songs that little. Then again, drama is my middle name.

Thirdly, I have been stood up for tonight's gig. By my best friend. Have asked virtually everyone I know if they can go and, quelle surprise, everyone is busy. I either go on my own or waste the tickets completely.

Lastly, I have two questions for you....

1) Why is there a setting on the toaster that causes bread to BURN?

2) Why is there a setting on the shower that causes water to SCALD?

Breakfast and my morning shower were a victim of both those settings today. I think I might write some strongly worded letters. Except I won't, I'm really all talk.

I told you. I'm all about the WOE right now. (I'm a big fan of capitalisation today. I think it gets my POINT across rather WELL)

"You could come round mine. We could drink some wine..."

The monstrosity is finished.

Thank God. I'm still pretty ill and don't think I could bear any more mornings spent in the freezing cold church. I think I would actually have a breakdown. So that's a week of my life that I'll never get back but, secretly, I've actually quite enjoyed it. Don't tell my Mum that though.

Seeing as tomorrow is Thanksgiving in America I thought I would do a little 'things I am thankful for' list. Here goes...

• The fact I'm seeing Lykke Li in Manchester tomorrow night. Cannot wait. I haven't been so excited about a gig for ages.
  
• I'm also an incredibly lucky girl as I'm then going to see Roisin Murphy on Friday night. I heart her. Majorly. Then am off out for drinks and dancing with my lovely friend Tash.
  
• I start my new job on Monday. Ooh, it's nice seeing those words written down. Employment = money = happy Helen.
• I'm seeing the Mighty Boosh live on Monday. Cannot wait. Am still holding out hope that the person who was originally supposed to come with me will come round and do so. It could be so much fun.
  
• It is Christmas in 29 days! (Yes I'm one of those irritating people that loves all things festive. I can't get enough. Get over it)
• FailBlog. All your FAIL needs, daily.

And, in slightly less material terms, I'm thankful for the experiences I was lucky enough to have this year. I had some of the happiest times of my life, particularly during the Summer. I laughed till I ached more times than I can count. I danced till I dropped. Went on the best holiday of my life, to one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Went to four festivals and saw more live music than I thought humanly possible. I felt complete for the first time in my life and I cherish the memories so much. An entire Summer spent with my best friend in the whole world.... it doesn't get much better than that.

That was the happiest I've ever been.

Thankyou for that.

Anyone got any Vaporub?

No I haven't taken up t'fags, that's my breath in the above picture. Man alive it is FREEZING out there today. The fact I still have a rotten cold is not helping my temperature either. I'm currently wearing tights, leggings, slippers, a dress, a cardigan, a jumper and a scarf. I also have my big knitted festival blanket wrapped round me, as can be seen in the pitiful picture below (although that picture was taken months ago. I am not fit to be photographed at the moment. Snot fest).

Despite my extremely severe case of Poorly Sickness (tm), preparations for the Panto of Doom (tm) continue unabated. Another full day of painting, moaning and sneezing awaited me this morning as I awoke from the Worst Night's Sleep Ever (tm). I think I eventually fell asleep at 5.39am (approx). Although I wouldn't call it sleep, more passing out due to exhaustion from coughing my guts up all through the wee small hours.

From this.....

To this.....

.... In 2 days. Not too shabby. Still lots to do but that can wait until my head feels less like it's about to explode. For now, sleep (and sinex) beckons...

Oh no he didn't.... Oh yes he did

In what world is it fair that I have my second cold in two weeks? And both have been absolute rotters. Yes yes, worse things happen at sea, I know that. But I don't deal with colds well. I want to be able breathe, I miss it. It's a breach of my human rights and I may have to write a strongly worded letter to.... someone. Anyone.

Coinciding with the cold of doom is the fact I have been volunteered (ha!) by my Mother to paint scenery for the local church's pantomime. Which starts on Saturday. This Saturday. Thanks for that, Mum. This is merely the latest in a long line of creative projects that she's roped me into, kicking and screaming. Behold my handiwork....

Stupidly big seahorse - July 2007

Mr Bumble - July 2008

My mother, you see, is a member of the WI. The WI have a large tent each year at the Cheshire Show. In this tent they have competitions. Best cake, biggest marrow, most magnificent plums... you get the idea. Each year they decorate the tent under a different theme. And then I get volunteered to make an animal to represent that theme for my Mum's Institute (Womens', not mental. Just to clarify).

Why me I hear you ask. Simple. I live rent free. This is my penance. I pay with art. And my soul.

So I have been in a freezing cold church hall since 8 this morning painting 'Ye Olde Gingerbreade Shoppe' and some barrels. Amongst other delights. Pictures to follow, if I don't die of the common cold. There's always a first time.

My life = FAIL.

"Fingers crossed, my time is coming now..."

Oh kitchen of dreams, I miss you!

I have been Nottingham-bound for the last few days. It was lovely, simply lovely. I miss the city, my friends, the places i knew and loved. Plus I miss what the city represented. Independence. I truly feel like a failure because I'm living with my parents at the age of 27. I love them dearly, I really do. They have been incredibly supportive during this period of upset and upheaval in my life. They let me live rent free (which I feel eternally guilty about) and my Dad often slips me the odd ten pound note, accompanied by the muttered "Don't tell your mother". But I miss so much being able to get home from work, get into my pyjamas (without being judged by mother) and make entirely inappropriate evening meals (jam sandwiches i miss thee). I am too too old to be living here. I lived away for years and the transition back has not been an easy one, due in part I think to the fact I was 18 when I left for Nottingham. I think maybe they still see me as that 18 year old. Whereas I'm now 27.

I start my new job a week on Monday. I intend to pay off my mammoth overdraft, make some inroads into my credit card debts and then, fingers crossed, try and get a place of my own. This time next year I hope to be in a very different situation. I cannot be 28 and still living here. Does not compute.

100% Ikea

Christma-nchester...

Merry *hic* Christmas Manchester

Last night we ventured to the Manchester Christmas Market. It was marvellous. Above is the only photo I managed to take. As you can probably tell a few too many Gluhweins had been consumed by this point and I was incapable of focusing my eyes, let alone my camera. It was fab though and now I feel unbelievably festive. This is good in a way as I have a sparkling new demeanour. However, I fear I may have peaked too soon and, come December 1st, I'll be shouting "bah, humbug!" at passers by. But for now I intend to enjoy it. Few things in life fill me with joy more than large German sausages (stop sniggering) smothered in ketchup, hot steaming mugs of booze and twinkly lights.

For some unblurry photos of last years extravaganza go here. Revel in the festive joy (and check out the rather frightening illuminated Santa which I'm convinced is based on Zippy from Rainbow).

Tidings of joy...

Ding dong merrily on high

Two splendid things happened yesterday. Yes, two!

1) I got offered two jobs. Honestly, you wait five months and then two come along at once. I've not got a tricky decision to make as one is lots of money but further to travel and only temporary till June. The other is closer, less money but permanent. Anyone who knows me knows that I cannot make decisions to save my life so this is particularly hellish. Procrastination is my middle name. I may have resort to a good ol' fashioned pros and cons list. But the main thing is that employment finally beckons... a week on monday if all goes to plan. The benefits office is breathing a sigh of relief as we speak.

2) And this is the big news people..... drum roll...... Sainsburys have got their festive sandwiches in! I had a severe addiction to the turkey and cranberry sauce one during my final year at university. I'd forgotten all about it until I was perusing the shelves yesterday in search of enlightenment. The addiction is back. Big time. Huge time.

Happy wednesday everyone!

If music be the food of love, play on...

Bloom Festival 2008

I got tagged for a musical meme by the lovely wee-h and, seeing as I am currently involved in a deep and meaningful relationship with my iTunes, here goes...

Music to cry to...

Put simply, at the moment, I cry to A LOT of music. But that’s because that music holds memories for me, not because it’s particularly sad music (for example I currently weep like a baby at Gregor Tresher – a Tech House/Electro DJ). So, if I was to choose music that makes me cry simply because it’s emotional I would say ‘Time Flies’ by Lykke Li. ‘Be Mine’ by Robyn and ‘Hide and Seek’ by Imogen Heap will always raise a few tears too. Johnny Cash also makes me bawl, something about his voice gets to me.

Music to make you scream out loud with the joy of a thousand spring mornings...

Honestly? Take That. Sad I know. Although I never scream in the morning. It’s unsightly and tends to cause headaches. I'm also very partial to a bit of early 90s dance music.... Altern8, Smart-Es, the Shamen, early Prodigy (Charly era). Love it. It makes me dance round like a fool. I'm not coming off as very cool here am I? Ha ha.

Music you know you won’t like; it’s really not your thing, definitely, well maybe a little bit, sometimes...

So I’m guessing this is the place for guilty pleasures? I have numerous. Girls Aloud being the biggest one. They’re my most played on Last.fm, tragically. What can I say, they have some cracking tunes. Also, Madonna, Kylie, Kate Nash, The Wombats.

Music to fill your head and block out the bad thoughts...

Like wee-h, “I usually go out and dance to block out bad thoughts”. So music here has to be stuff like the Plump DJs, Deadmau5, Hoxton Whores, Mason, Booka Shade. Anything loud that makes thinking impossible. Also a special mention here has to go to The Whip. I’ve seen them live more times than I can count and they always make me ridiculously happy.

Music to jump to...

Roisin Murphy always makes me want to dance. ‘You Know Me Better’ and ‘Dear Miami’ have very special places in my heart. Lady GaGa is also currently rocking my world. As are M.I.A. and Santogold, who make me dance round my living room daily. I saw them both in concert together last year and it was truly incredible. M.I.A. is currently experiencing a major resurgence following ‘Paper Planes’ being used in that Pineapple Express film. I think I want to be her a lot a bit.

Music to run to...

Music that I listen to in the gym tends to be anything upbeat to keep the adrenaline going. Devastatingly, my most played songs are a plethora of songs that remind me of when my friend Chris first came out and we started visiting Canal Street. Such gems as ‘Runnin’ by Basstoy and ‘Koochy’ by Armand van Helden. Basement Jaxx also make fairly regular appearances as they keep my spirits up when my legs feel like they're about to fall off.

Music to transport you...

Music that transports me to another place entirely is anything by the Guillemots or the Editors. I saw both in concert this year and they were two of the best live performances I’ve ever seen. When Racing Rats comes on iTunes I’m immediately sent right back to Blackpool. To that beautiful ballroom.

If we're talking about music that I listen to whilst driving.... anything I can find. Which is usually an old mixtape that Emma made me when I was 17/18, warped from being in the sunlight and containing anything from old hip hop to northern soul.

Music to just sit to...

Currently… Lykke Li, Neon Neon, Air. All quite chilled out and go very nicely with a big glass of red wine. Joy Division I also listen to a lot whilst sitting around. Although Joy Division + wine usually = involuntary weeping.

So there you go. I'm a bit of an eclectic old bag really. I tag..... anyone who fancies a trawl through their music. I discovered loads of stuff I'd forgotten I had. Some I wish I hadn't found (who on earth needs five Natasha Bedingfield tracks? Not me, that's who. DELETE.)

24/7, 365

1 year has passed since that meeting in the train station. Since that day when my life changed. Not for the better, not for the worse.... it just changed. And it's never been the same since. I've learnt a lot about myself in the last 52 weeks. A lot that I can't write down or even verbalise. Suffice to say, I'm a different person to the girl I was. Sadder in some ways, happier in others.... poorer yet richer.

I can't count the number of bands and songs I can no longer listen to. I don't want the happy memories to come flooding back, so I switch the radio off or click skip. Maybe in time I'll want to hear those songs, those familiar lyrics, those 7 minute songs with no words that I used to say all sounded the same. But not right now. I don't want to be reminded of what I've lost.

I've kept the tears at bay for a while now. But today they fall freely.

I think of you every day. I wonder where you are. How you are. If you think of me at all.

I miss you. Always.


"You sit there in your, heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch him now, here he comes..."

I always love you more miles away...

Look at that expression. Look at that grumpy little face.

That is how I feel today.

'Why?' I hear you ask.

Well, to cut a long story short, I am bored of being disappointed. Sick of being let down. Weary of putting my trust in people and being hurt. Yet again. Why can't people just be who you think they are? Why, for once, can't my fears be proved wrong? I try so hard to see the good in people. So hard. But time and again it's just thrown right back in my face. Now, more than ever, I feel incredibly alone.

Normal service to be resumed shortly. For now I'm off to stomp around the house and play Wii boxing. That ought to get rid of some of my frustration. Grr!

Oh the weather outside is frightful....

It's official.... Winter is here.

Once the innocent smoothies get their hats on I know I'm in for 3+ months of cold, rain, wind and fog. But no snow. Oh no. Never snow. Never lovely thick wintery magical snow. It hasn't snowed properly where I live since 2000. No fair.

Lymm - December, 2000

In other news, I've had two job interviews. Am waiting to hear back from both. Please oh please oh please let me get one of them. I need to buy shoes urgently (NB; not for any purpose... I just always need to buy shoes urgently).

The interview today was slightly ludicrous. Why do law job interview always entail answering such daft questions?

Questions I've been asked in law interviews:

• How many pennies are there in £500,000? (Answer: 50 million. I got it right. Shock)
• What's 30% of £300? And then the inevitable 'Are you sure?' just to make you question your abilities even more.
• If you were a biscuit, what type would you be?
• If you were to invite 3 famous people, dead or alive, to dinner, who would they be?
• How would your friends describe you?

Ugh.

Never forget...

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it"

http://www.poppy.org.uk/

Internets, we love you!!!11!1

I seem to have developed insomnia. I was up till 4 last night so I thought I'd get a nice early night to compensate for it. And now? It's 1.30am and sleep is just not forthcoming.

The reason? I have been reminiscing. Big time. About the internet (how horrifically geeky is that?). I remember when my Dad first talked about getting the internet. I remember him signing up to Compuserve. It was 1994. I'd just started high school. I still wore jumpers that my Gran had knitted me for Christmas. I didn't have a clue.

Our first email address was 7 numbers! 7 numbers followed by @compuserve.com. How retro is that?!? Those were the days. Back when using the internet was unbelieveably expensive and my mother's cries of 'are you still on that bloody machine?' would ring through the house daily. I remember when you were happy if a website loaded in under 5 minutes. I remember how the internet would shut off if someone was trying to call the home phone number. And how devastatingly difficult it was to sign back on. We're utterly spoilt these days!

I've had an online presence for so long now it's like second nature. I've been on the internet for for than half my life! Crazy. There were the 4later* forum years (2000-2002 i think) where I was immersed in a surreal little world of social misfits and insomniacs. It was a Channel 4 forum for the people who watched the late night programming. It was a strangely comforting place, somewhere familiar to go and talk about absolutely anything. They were lovely people and we were like a little family in a way. I still speak to quite a few of them now. That's longevity for you in this transient online world. I even met my first love through that forum. Internet dating way back in 2001! He's married now, I hear. Strange. But that's a story for another day...

I did the Diaryland thing for a few years (where I met you). Then LiveJournal swept me off my feet. And now... here.

It's a strange place, the online world. But one that's provided me with a hell of a lot of support over the years. From the most unlikely of sources. I've been reading back over some old diary entries I made back in 2001 and man was I angsty! The whole world was on my shoulders and I wanted to make sure that everyone knew about it. I had some serious issues going on, looking back. And I think that's why I've always maintained some sort of online 'record'. To quote myself in 2001 - "I often wonder why we do it? Why do I write here? Am i doing it for attention? Do i want people to notice me? Do i think that my life is so important that others really want to read about it?"... Looking back, I think the reason is connection. Connection with other people when you don't feel able to talk to the people you see every day. Plus, I've always felt this weird compulsion to record things. To write things down for posterity. To create something tangible out of intangible memories.

I'm not really sure what the purpose of this post is or what I'm trying to get at. I think I'm just trying to say.... it's really nice to remember sometimes :)


*I can't link to the actual forum as it was taken down yeeears ago. But that's a site one of the old forumers made, linking to everyone's journals, etc. See if you can spot me.

Let us be thankful...

Here it is.... the weekly list of things that are currently rocking my world and making it a more joyful place to be:

• This flask. It has a moustache. What's not to love.
• Stephen Fry on Twitter. Currently in Madagascar and making me chuckle.
• YouTube in general.... These guys in particular. Watch their stuff. It will make your life better. Fact.
• Chocolate iced custard filled Krispy Kremes. Yum.
• The lovely weekend that I just had.... eating good food, drinking fantastic red wine, watching Louis Theroux and laughing. A lot.
  
• The fact that I have not one but two interviews this week! Like the proverbial bus, two have come along at once. One I would really like, one I'm not so bothered about. But I'd snatch the hand off anyone who offered me either, obviously.

Not too shabby at all.

Uno

Fact #1 in an occasional series of random facts about me:

I buy greetings cards a lot. I buy greetings cards even when I have noone to send said cards to. I buy greetings cards that I'd like to receive from other people. Buy buy buy buy buy.

(If I write 'greetings cards' one more time will it tip people over the edge? Oops, too late)

I loved you first...

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed
And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed
Oh I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light
And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed
Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one
And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first


:'(

It's never too late....

I'm in the mood for...

I have come to a conclusion... I have been in my pyjamas for 3 hours now, dancing around the house to my ipod. And I mean full on shaking-my-ass-arms-in-the-air-singing-along-badly D.A.N.C.I.N.G! This can mean only one thing....

It is far too long since I have been out and danced. Like, really danced. I know, I know, I was out last weekend for el birthday celebrations. But that was a night in the gay village. Not a PROPER night out. I wanted to go to the night above but, being a complete numpty, failed to get tickets. I need Warehouse Project in my life. ASAP.

Alas, I shall probably spend the evening watching Strictly Come Dancing and X Factor. Astonishingly though, there's a part of me that's quite looking forward to it. Maybe i really am getting old? I'm torn between the exuberant antics and debauchery of youth, and the reality that my body really can't handle it anymore. Sigh.

Happy Saturday everyone!

There are no words...

RIP: 1973-2008

Woe is me, people. Woe is me. Today the parents and I made our yearly birthday pilgrimage to my very favourite restaurant in the whole world. The joyful not-changed-since-the-70s Pizzeria Italia on Deansgate in Manchester. I was practically salivating as I strolled towards that red check tableclothed behemoth.

Gone. GONE!

In its place? 'Rustica'. Crapica more like. I don't want modern interior design and fresh bloody flowers on every table. I want 70s inspired paintings, crap opera music and waiters who know my name. I want waiters who playfully bring the bill to me instead of my dad, as they have done ever since I was 4 years old. I want the big fat chef who runs round the open kitchen at the speed of light, practically creating a tremor with every footstep. I want the carafes of house wine that could take the skin off your face, not the delicate tannins of a proper bottle. I don't want a pizza with crispy bloody duck on it, I want a simple cheese-laden-heart-attack-inducing margarita.

In short, I am devastated. Seriously. I actually nearly cried.

Oh i do like to be beside the seaside...

Yesterday we went for a fun-filled day to a very quiet and out of season Blackpool. The illuminations have finished and the holiday makers have long since departed. It was very strange and decidedly eerie walking along a pier filled with stalled fairground rides and unmanned candyfloss stalls... just waiting for next June and for the season to begin once more.

There were some terrifying sights to behold....

But at least they sell fags...

And the Bingo is only 10p...
We played the 2p machines. Big money high rollers that we are....
And marvelled at the 'Edwardian' architecture....
But this is unforgiveable....

DOWN WITH BAD GRAMMAR!

Ooh I love being a pedantic old cow.

PS: I may not be an American but I stayed up all night on Tuesday to watch the returns. All I have to say on the matter is this....

...Thank God for that.

Just one...

I have one birthday wish. Just one.

Please let it come true.

Please?

Another year older, another year wiser?

Em and Chris - My birthday, 2007

I find it relatively easy to be positive during the daylight hours. My dogs are always buzzing around, making me laugh. My parents are there. There always seems to be something to do. The evening is a different story. It's the time when I feel the most lonely and when all I want to do is hear his voice. Because it's the friendship I miss the most. I'd never had a boyfriend who was also my best friend before. Even very early in the relationship we started to finish each others' sentences. We used to say exactly the same thing at exactly the same time and then he'd laugh and pretend it freaked him out. It's strange to say it, but he truly was the other half of me. The male Helen. I felt more comfortable with him than I ever have with any other man. Like I could tell him anything and he'd still be there. We had so much in common it was just bizarre. But I loved it.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

As I sit here and await the start of another year in my life it's him I think of. I wonder whether he thinks of me too. Whether he even wonders if I'm ok. I think back to how I felt a year ago, when the photo above was taken. I'd just met him and I was so happy. So excited for what might lie ahead. So excited that I'd finally found my soulmate. Even if we didn't end up having a lasting relationship, I was just excited to know him. To have in my life.

The truth is.... I miss my best friend.

I'd give anything to take it all back... to wipe the slate clean. He was the highlight of my day, every day and I miss the laughter. The incessant laughter that never seemed to stop. The silly injokes that never failed to make me chuckle. The fact we could be completely ridiculous in front of each other and not give a damn. Some of the best times we ever had together were just the two of us, sitting in bed, watching non stop tv and films (but really talking over the top of them the whole time). We didn't need anything or anybody to entertain us. Just each other.

Here's to the next 365 days, whatever they may bring...

When I grow up...

Aren't my friends lovely? Pink balloons + fizzy wine in paper cups x awesome presents = a thoroughly joyful Helen. I had a great night. We danced till 6am and I shamelessly made strangers buy me birthday drinks. Perfection!

Tomorrow I am the grand old age of 27. And I feel every one of my 27 years today. A weekend of no sleep coupled with debaucherous behaviour has left me destroyed. I ache all over, have the shakes and have completely lost my voice (much to everyone else's delight). 27. I just don't understand how that happened. I feel (and look) about 19 and I'm really not where I thought I'd be at 27. Still, at least I'm getting a Wii for my birthday. That ought to ease the pain somewhat (or increase it when my Wii Fit shouts at me for being a fatty).

I'm dreaming of a white Hallowe'en...

The show last night was simultaneously the most bizarre yet incredible thing I've ever seen. Clowns. Snow. Bubbles. Cobwebs. Balloons. What more could a girl want on Hallowe'en? Plus the most incredible ending to a theatre performance I've ever seen. I was literally mesmerised by the whole thing and this is coming from a girl who's normally terrified of clowns (IT, anyone?)

If you get the chance, go!!! (yes, it's so good it deserves 3, count them, 3! exclamation! points!) Seriously.