Oscar

Day 30

Today has been a somewhat intellectual day considering how much time I've wasted on the literal activity of Nothing the last few weeks. I read two Oscar Wilde plays. He seems to know women so much better than we know ourselves. I watched Pride & Prejudice, the real, wonderfully long series, not that Keira Knightley (as much as I think she is beautiful) bullshit. I drank coffee.

This has left me somewhat depressed (hey what's new?) and philosophical.
On another note, I am back to melting my mobile with my eyeballs, waiting for a text or a call which doesn't come. However, his dad texted me. His hilarious, brilliant father texted to threaten me with dogs, to say he isn't afraid of the Russian Mafia and to inquire as to when his son will be getting his expensive underwear, which I borrowed for personal use, back. And to wish me a happy New Year on the 27th of December. Nice to know he is thinking of me. But the text did lift my mood, I love Dave. In contrast to his father, who replied to me within every two minutes, he is ignoring me. -Thats my paranoia coming through- Probably not ignoring me, just busy with family and whatnot. Nope, ignoring me. Why are females so irrational?

My head is firmly set on Wednesday though.
Oscar Wilde - that genius man, in A Woman of No Importance wrote -

"The one advantage of playing with fire, is that one never gets even singed. It is the people who don't know how to play with it that get all burned up."

Personally, I think I have had my fair share of playing with fire, no matter my age. Fire is a familiar accomplice and I haven't seen her in far too long. I have seen many a person get "all burned up" as Oscar put it, and it is not a pretty sight. There is nothing sadder than watching silly little girls and overambitious little boys, that trully believe that they have reached the height of sophistication and are ready to dance in the flames like artistes. And then they lose sight of the candlewax and "get all burned up." That wouldn't happen. I may not have all the cards but the Ace of Spades (oh, the relevance is hysterical) is certainly useful.

I am gagging to go out with the people I love, and listen to deafening music and sip spirits. Unfortunately while Christina, as much as I adore her, is here, I realy can't as we'll be showing her and her mother the wonders of Dorset.
Salisbury, Corfe Castle, Lyndehurst, Christchurch, Mudeford, Lulworth. I think everyone my age forgets what an amazing place the South of England really is sometimes. Pretty or not, I'd choose London any day.

It is particularly cold and grey outside today. My life in Dorset feels particularly minute. My repeated thoughts of him seem particularly real.
I need some more vaseline, my lips are dry.
Je n'ai jamais ecrive le blog au francais. Quelle dommage.
I love you, my room is so cold tonight.