Thursday 29 October 2009

Gossip Update!

I'm getting worked like a cart horse at my work the past two days. Blimey - it's none stop. I'm not a work fanatic or anything. In fact, I'm nowhere close to that and never have been, incase you didnt' already know that!
But i'm almost, dare I say it, enjoying the pressure. I feel alive and my brain is getting exercised despite not performing scientific tests for the good of human kind.

But, I'll tell you something: Along with a few billion other people on this planet, I'm looking forward to the end of tomorrow when the weekend begins. Yiipppeee!
Thinking of getting a smallish bright red love heart tattoo on the side of my wrist on saturday. Cute, huh? Will let you know.

I've had a productive evening. I've sent my 3 chapter to Lou, the editor. I started writing a justification for the work not being perfect. What the hell? Of course it's not going to be. I'm only just beginning with the process of writing UnHooked. It's my perfectionism that actually prevents me from writing anything at all, some of the time. I daren't start because I don't want to let myself down by not getting everything reading wonderfully from the start.
Tomorrow I am going to buy me a coat. Not a thick winter one. I have a few of those. But something light weight suitable for this unusually mild autumnal weather we're having in London right now.

Just had an email from a friend of mine who is a writer. He's a great writer but he also has a huge ego.

"Why didn't you want to meet me last week? Scared of getting fucked?" What a question. We once had a torrid affair, but that's long passed. Although utterly cocky, he means it with charm.
It's not as though I am randomly going to find myself riding his dick without realising what's happening.

"Or is it that you don't want to fall in love with me again?"

Please. Get over yourself.


Sexless called me when I was on my way back from work this evening. He goes abroad two or three times every month, for work, and when he does so he often brings me back some cigarettes. I rarely see him, instead he drops them off for me with the security guard at the building I work it.
So he called me today from Brussells.

“Do you want me to bring you some Marlboro Lites?” he asked. I felt a smidgen embarrassed because this happens a fair bit and it's the fact that we so rarely see each other that makes me feel worse about it I think. Kind of. I'm not too fussed, maybe im just saying that 'cos it's PC for me to say it...

“Yes, please”

“What’s wrong, are you alright? Don’t you want some?” he asked.

“ Yes, I just feel a bit awkward – I don’t want you thinking that I’m just using you for cigs”.

At the time it sounded really funny. Say it quickly... no, honestly it was funny... 'cigs', 'sex'...!?!!??
Maybe you needed to be there - or maybe it's just my lame humour.

OK - gonna make my bed time coffee which I hope will knock me out for a long and comfy sleep.

Night night amigos!






http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hooked-Survived-Prostitution-Londons-Nightlife/dp/1845966031/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1252794549&sr=1-1