1. I'm a walking disaster area, for whom even the most basic tasks prove to be too much. I hurt my right arm on the bus yesterday and it's quite painful. It hurts even to type. I've written like, 4 posts since then. My dedication to blogging is so great :P Meh, it hurts when I'm still anyway, I may as well be typing and taking my mind off it! I couldn't sleep last night because of it. It's a handbag injury; I think I twisted my arm the wrong way while picking mine up to get off at my stop.
2. I'm frugal with my lips. I've only kissed 7 boys. I should say men, though some of them were boys when I kissed them. 'Men' would just make that sentence sound less like I was writing this in my diary at the back of a science class, dotting the i's with love hearts. Given my time over, I would only have kissed two of them. One of them is Boyf.
3. I'm still one of the crap kids in the shallow end. I can't really swim. I had a scary experience in a public swimming baths when I was little, but I am not afraid of the water. While holidaying in Toulouse, I swam a little for the first time. I began practising with the aid of a pair of neon pink armbands and a child's Finding Nemo float, which I purchased for myself.
4. I almost passed myself off as intelligentsia (me!) I've stayed at Oxford University twice, once
on an access course (where they let young people from disadvantaged areas get a taste of the good life!), and once while interviewing for a place there. I'm not sorry I didn't get in; I think I would've hated it. Nice deer park at Magdalen though. You have to sign a disclaimer before they let you into the Bod library saying you promise not to set anything on fire. Tee hee.5. I've replaced hot sex with hot beverages! I really like drinking tea, wild child that I am. Boyf makes the best cup of tea ever. When we are both off work, he gets up first in the morning, makes me some tea, and then wakes me up when it's ready. He also puts the kettle on when I get home from work. We call them love cups of tea :P
6. I'm an evil genius, who spends many hours plotting devious schemes of revenge. I don't get along with Boyf's family, due to a dispute many years ago with his sister, and the fact that his mother is doolally.
Once, also many years ago, we looked after their house while they were away. I only stayed there one night, the atmosphere in that house is just horrible. But I helped some in the big clean up before they came home. I forced Boyf to vacuum downstairs while I brushed up on the landing. I looked around up there and couldn't find a bin to empty the little pile of lint into, so I opened his sister's door and threw it in there (hahahahahahaha!) Small pleasures, people, small pleasures.Now for the lucky six! I don't think I even know six bloggers?! Do this if you feel like it, unless you are 'Muffin, in which case I demand six facts, since you are still brand new. I'll even let you put down the one about how fast you can shelve a trolley. I'm good like that, see.
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