12:20 a.m.
/
01 March, 2004

I shocked myself today. My mother told me that this boy I grew up with has just separated from his wife, and that last night he was talking to her about it all. Brad (that's his name) is 3 days older than me, and has a baby boy called Che, who he adores. Anyway, mother dearest was gushing about how mature he sounded, how sensible and how much he still cares about his wife (the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Ever.) Then, out of the blue, I murmured, "I wish I was married." I still can't figure out why I said that, or if it's true. But I really meant it at the time.

Ooh, also had the weirdest dream: Lisa Marie Presley was lying on a double bed on a beach, on top of some rocks, surrounded by groupies. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a breakwater with Giles from Buffy, who was slicing into my legs with a scapel. There was also this black and white little movie playing about victorian antique boxes being stolen from the "Working Men's Conservative Club". I woke up and I could still feeling the cuts in my legs... but I checked, there are none.

Back to 'I-wish-it-had-been-just-a-nightmare' real-life, Tom's mum came back the night I was babysitting to pick him up, and then proceeded to come onto me AGAIN. She was drunk AGAIN, but she was resting her head on my chest and saying, 'Don't worry, I don't like you like that', then hugging me and lolling about all the place. I may have pushed her away too hard (she kind of went flying). Then, she was telling me how much Tom adored me and would I ever be interested in a woman with kids. 'But, don't worry, I don't like you like that.' My favourite one was, 'I know I'm holding your hand, but I'm not trying to do anything.'

I don't think I like being the beacon of lesbianism to all these up-til-now closeted thirtysomethings. Especially not her, since she tends to inform everyone around us that I'm gay every time I'm in the same room as her. Maybe one day I'll return the favour.

Anyway, it's back to Canterbury tomorrow. 'Operation Work Harder You Lazy Cow Or You'll Fail And Die On Sheppey' will be underway. My first task is to think up a better name for the operation.

I heard Orlando Bloom talk in his own proper voice the other day, not in his Legolas way, I mean. And he sounds exactly like me! Except deeper, of course. Humour me, it's been a bloody long week!