All week I have been slightly... off. I'm pre-menstrual; the kind when you're tired all the time and your boobs feel like they're bouncing everytime you walk and when you run to the bus-stop so you don't miss the bus and be late for breakfast with your friend they feel like they're being yanked off so you hold them but then feel stupid so you don't hold them and then when you get to the bus-stop you howl and rub them thinking the lady on the other side of the glass won't notice but she does, and all because you picked a bra for looks and not support. And I'm suffering from a lady-complaint - it seems to offend some people so I'll just tell you it's also the name of a bird and sounds like schmrush. The power of these combined has made me impatient and whingey and not very sunny; and while I'm definitely cynical, I think I'm usually a pretty sunny person. But today, it ends. It is Friday. The day of the free. The home of the depraved. And tonight, I am going to my cousin's house to play Singstar with her and our family, all night, because she is moving to Melbourne. And I'm going to get drunk, and I'm going to cry, and I'm going to sing Rocket Man and point out the sign saying Long Live E-J for the fifty-millionth time, and cry again because I want her to go but I wish she could do it without actually being gone, and then I will sing Changes and overdo the Bowie, and then I will sing this, and make like Chrissie Hynde, and just be cool.
Other things that are making me feel better about life:
1. The group of old people in sweatshirts who practise Tai Chi in Aotea Square.
2. People reading books. They make my heart happy.
4. The possibility of my Christchurch parents migrating north.
5. Yelling at representatives of farmers who are ruining the environment on the TV, and having Vincent yelling beside me.
6. Old men (the nice ones, not the racists).
7. My book, Wigs On The Green by Nancy Mitford. I've only just started it and after skimming a comparison to Wodehouse in the introduction I'm not quite sold, but I want to be.
8. Thinking of my rare little niece and her penchant for stuffed animals that look real.
9. Leftovers for lunch.
10. The prospect of one day drinking whisky, neat, and liking it.